


The Insiders and 1q84 - by AnysCake

by SissolxJeffC4ever



Category: Brave New World, British Actors RPFs, George Orwell works, Hamlet - Fandom, Twelfth Night
Genre: Humor, Multi, Parody
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2019-11-07 21:36:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 28,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17968514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SissolxJeffC4ever/pseuds/SissolxJeffC4ever
Summary: Semi-parody of George Orwell’s 1984, and based on chapter 19 of The Trio PRT 2 that’s in the Broadway Transfer version of The Ultimate.You’ll never be able to read 1984 OR see 12th Night, Richard III, Hamlet, and Brave New World the same again after reading this! Dedicated to the few 1984, Twelfth Night, Hamlet, and Richard III fans.*NOTE: I only own Shakespeare(the character), Winston, and Shakespeare the gerbil.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I don’t know, but this idea’s been in my head for some time now, and I just have to write it down.

_(Andrew Gower POV)_

 

I stepped out from Shakespeare Mansions out into the real world and was temporarily blinded. Of course, it was by the light outside, and all the posters that screamed, ‘THE TRIO IS WATCHING YOU!’. I have no idea who, or what, The Trio was, so don’t even ask me about it. 

  Right, I almost forgot to tell you, we’re doing an Orwellian drama recently, so that’s how come those posters were around the place. Strange that the world evolves around us. 

  I was walking down the pavement when I saw the buildings, of course, most of them being villas. One of them had a big sign on it, saying, ‘Ministry of Peace’. Another one had ‘Ministry of Love’ on it, and the third one was ‘Ministry of Plenty’. My house wasn’t really in one of them, but one of my… dare I say it… friends were. 

 

  Of course, there were the Thought and Memory Polices. They were the ones living in those houses, or ministries, I should say. That was when I saw one of my friends, Andrew Scott, whom I call Scotty for simplicity because we literally and figuratively share the same name. 

  “Ands, they’ve taken Stephen, an’ Benedict, an’ Mart’n.” when we met around the front gate of the villa neighborhood, he told me, “I narrowly escaped. Seems like they’ve committed thought-memory-crime.” 

  Thought-memorycrime is Newspeak for ‘thinking and remembering things you shouldn’t be thinking and memorizing’; and since our childhood, they’ve drilled that into our heads, using either _soma_ or torture. 

 

  “So that leaves us with 20 grammes of _soma_ ,” I said back, “better that than those torture devices.” 

  I have to remind you something else, dear reader — Scotty is Irish, so most of his sentences sounded like how it is written above. 

  Perfect, now we’ve to get to the Two Minutes Love before things escalate even further. 

 

  And that reminds me something. 

  It was just yesterday, I swear, did I see Mark Rylance and company, or The Party, as most of us call them, going to the Ministry of Peace, which was, apparently, currently used for the Two Minutes Love. I don’t know why it’s called that, but I know how it is called that. Strange concept, wouldn’t you say? 

  So Scotty and I went there, and boy, was it crammed with people. We don’t call them ‘people’, per se, because they’re all fanatics, or in Newspeak, The Lovedom. 

 

  I should tell you the Lovedom is crazier than anyone on _soma_. They recently put up a forum asking about Patrick Stewart and Ian McKellen, along with Antony Sher; three individuals I don’t have problems with, but they didn’t have to know. And over there, I saw Angus Wright. 

  Angus, as you should know, is one of the most vicious supporters of The Party, and to think I’ve anything for him is to say I love The Party, which of course I don’t; but they didn’t have to know. 

 

  The Two Minutes Love reminded me about me having feelings for someone nearly within The Party — Sue Perkins, who is rumoured to be with Giles, one of the Inner Party members.  

  As usual, the Two Minutes Love was all about us loving The Trio, whom I don’t even have a clue consisted of, that is, until Scotty told me. 

 

  “If I remember correc’ly, The Trio is Angus, Liam, and Mark. Mark bin the leader.” he’d said, and I’d had mixed feelings for them since, thanks to that sentence. 

  Just seeing Angus there made me feel… well… calm, for some reason I didn’t know and didn’t want to know. All I knew was that he looked familiar, and he’d told me something about meeting in a place where there’s no darkness. Quite poetic, I’d decided. 

  And that was how come I decided to put everything into journal entries, for whom, who knows? 

 

ooooooo 

 

  Scotty had been _über_ -supportive(which, of course, is Newspeak for super-supportive) when coming to me doing journal entries, and no, it’s not about making The Trio’s power fall, not really. It hadn't been my idea per se, but I just decided to do so after what happened yesterday at the Love Week opening. Again, I have no idea why it’s called ‘Love Week’, so just bear with me here. 

 

  **“** _May 2016_

 

 _Love Week has officially started, and this is the first in the threads I’ll be posting about everything that happened. What I’ve heard from said week, and what I’ve experienced. I can tell you already that it’s been quite the adventure, and it’s going to be long, so buckle up and get comfy._ **”**  

 

  That was the first ever entry I did, with no one in mind to whom I’d give to read. And everything just escalated, you’ll see soon. 

 

oOo 

 

End chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: And yes, this is what happens when I read 1984 and Brave New World. At the same time.


	2. (Andrew Gower POV)

  

  Ever since I started the journal/diary entries, Scotty had been asking me about whom was I writing for. As usual, I’ve no idea, so I’ll be telling him to shut up about it, especially when we’re in the circle with The Trio. 

  Mark Rylance has some other cronies… sorry, _companions_ (that’s the word!)… with him recently, and their names were Peter Hamilton Dyer, James Garnon, and Jethro Skinner. Peter was the one who created all this — not literally, of course! — and without remorse. I don’t blame him, of course, since he is totally against Britsoc; or, British Societism. Whatever that is, I don’t know, and I don’t want to know, as usual. 

  Since Peter was the creator of this, I couldn’t help but think that it was him who made up The Trio. 

 

  “It couldn’t be,” when Scotty and I were in our workstations, the former said to me. Angus and Mark weren’t really looking or patrolling the area, so we were relatively safe. “Peter invented thought-memorycrime? That sounds more Orwellian than normal.” 

  I looked up when I heard that phrase. ‘Orwellian’, as you should know, dear readers, is Newspeak for ‘bizarre’ or ‘surreal’, though the phrases ‘Lovecraftian’ and ‘Kafka-esque’ are used as well. But when coming to Peter, ‘Orwellian’ didn’t just summarize everything up, it summarized all the eccentricities up as well. 

  “That’s for sure.” I said back, sneaking a look around my workstation, hoping that Angus and Mark, or maybe the latter’s third henchman… no, wrong word!… _companion_ , Liam Brennan, would be observing the tele-screens and harassing others. 

 

  You should know that even though Scotty and my job were to translate Oldspeak into Newspeak, it was hard work, since Oldspeak, according to Peter, who was the leader of our section, wasn’t really used anymore, especially in London. I swear he’d read too much George Orwell, which he claims himself to be as. 

  That was everything Scotty and I did until we finally got back to our neighborhood, which I still had to help out some people, which, of course, were the Lovedom. 

 

  I decided to write this down as well into the journal entries, just hoping no one would see it. 

 

  **“** _Still May 2016_

 

_As usual, work was translating Old-speak to Newspeak. For some reason, I heard Angus talking with Mark about me knowing too much Oldspeak. I didn’t want to know what that meant, especially when it concerns me; but how d’you expect me to translate Oldspeak into Newspeak if I don’t even know the former-speak? I don’t think I’d be revisiting this journal for some time, because Angus and Mark’s relationship is just too interesting, not that I’m really prying into theirs._

_The tele-screens haven’t shut up about Mark and company since this morning, before I got to the Ministry of Truth, where Samuel Barnett, Johnny Flynn, and Joseph Timms were present to boss everyone around. Matt Harrington was in the Ministry of Peace, along with Peter, Jethro, and James._

 

 _I’ll’ve to try and see to whatever the Lovedom wants with me before I continue with this, because there’s a rapping at the door._ **”**  

 

  Putting down my pen, I didn’t even realize how I made Edgar Allan Poe’s words my own before opening the door to the faces of one of the Lovers. 

 

ooooooo 

 

  “Oh, Love, I would really appreciate it if you’d like to see to what I did for you.” when I opened the door, I expected the faces of one of Mark’s trusty Thought and Memory Police forces, but it was only one of the Lovers, as usual. 

  A reminder: they’re called the Lovers because they’re in the Lovedom, which was hyper-fans of The Trio, as well as The Party, aka Mark and Co. And of course, whenever communicating with them, ‘Love’ is Newspeak for ‘friend’ and/or ‘associate’. Kind of ridiculous, I know. 

  “What you did for me?” I was incredulous when coming to what the Lovers did. 

 

  The Lover nodded eagerly and I had no choice but to follow them. 

  Following them into the room, I saw that they had put my own and Scotty’s various projects around their room. Quite sweet, I’d say. Of course, I didn’t just tell that to the Lover, I just told them to get on with whatever they were doing prior to interrupting me when I was writing in the journal. 

  As expected, the Lover looked upset. 

 

  “You don’t like it?” they asked, looking at me with puppy eyes. 

  I had to admit, it was nice. “Well, yeah,” I said back, temporarily at a loss for words. “Now, I’ll have to get back to my own project. Thanks for doing this for me!” 

  That made them as happy as can be. Jumping up, they hugged me. 

 

  I sighed in slight exasperation. I think I’ll have to ask Scotty for support when coming to the Lovedom. 

 

oooooooo 

 

  Peter Hamilton Dyer haven’t been around our workstation recently, but James and Jethro had been. As mentioned previously, James and Jethro were Peter’s henchmen(no, wrong word — _companions_ , that’s the word!), while Angus and Liam were Mark’s Companions. ‘Companion’ was the word all of us in London should call each other, whether we know each other or not. Scotty was the only other person I knew didn’t really use that Newspeak word to describe his… well… companions — he used ‘friend’ and ‘comrade’, which were archaic words, according to Peter, who patrolled our area yesterday. 

  I guess I’d better tell you about what happened yesterday, because that’s the only time when entertainment, or, in Newspeak: ‘Funtime’, happened in the Ministry of Truth, where usually, Samuel, Johnny, and Joseph frequented. 

 

  It was, as usual, a very random day when Scotty and I arrived to our workplace via Tube. The Tube was the only thing that didn’t really have an upgrade, not that I minded. At least that thing could still take us to where we wanted it to take us. When we arrived at Minitrue, we saw Jethro, James, and Peter. 

  Scotty and I acted as naturally as possible around them, mostly because, as they were also rumored to be in Mark’s inner circle, they might be Thought and Memory Polices. I decided that was ridiculous. Peter had been parading as George Orwell for god knows how long, and Scotty was painfully oblivious about it. 

  I decided he’d be Vaporized if he kept this up. 

 

  “So The Other Trio is here as well? Other than our original one?” when we got into the Ministry, Scotty asked me. 

  To say I cringed hard was an understatement. Scotty was the only person I trusted around the Ministry, and now he’s speaking like how Stephen Fry did. Stephen was Vaporized, as I’ve heard, because he dared to question The Trio. Unsurprising, if you ask me. And more, he’d been friends with some others of our ministry — Alan Davies, Sean Lock, etc. 

  “Uh… kind of,” I mumbled to him, as we snaked towards our workstations after arriving at our floor via the lift. 

 

  As soon as we arrived at our workstations, Scotty turned to me, grinning. 

  “Y’know, I never expected Benedict t’be caught, now that he is, WOOO-HOO!” he yelled, with me shushing him quickly. If I was honest to myself, I seriously couldn’t risk him going to the Ministry of Love, where Angus and Company resided. “Y’know, Benedict can almost tell anythin’ ‘boutcha, so if he’s Vaporized, I’m not surprised. He dared to question ‘bout our dress-up? And also, he dared to question The Trio?” 

  The last question was the only question I understood. I nodded. 

 

  “He did, and Angus was the one who tortured him, instead of using _soma_ ,” I said back. I had no idea where I got that information from, but these days, you know everything, no matter whether it’s true or not. Maybe Benedict was exiled to the Savage Civilization that’s not far from London, or maybe he was Vaporized, never to exist again. I hoped the former, though. 

  Scotty became _über_ -excited when I said that. 

  “How didja know?” he beamed. 

  I cringed again. 

 

  I was about to answer when Peter, Jethro, and James came through the door, starting their patrol. Immediately Scotty and I went to our work, translating Old-speak to New-speak. 

  I couldn't imagine how Peter thought of all this, and even more, he’s been calling me Winston Smith for some time as well. I didn’t think of telling you this earlier, dear readers, but I’ll be making sure I include this Orwellian phenomenon in the journal entry threads. 

  Now, back to the story. Scotty and I were doing work when Peter looked at us. 

 

  “I heard about you two talking about Benedict and Martin, isn’t it?” he asked, and Scotty and I gulped again. 

  Ever since knowing about this reality I’m in, I never expected to just wake up and start the day again. I expected to go to the Ministry of Love and be done with it — be Vaporized or exiled to the Savage Civilization; or better, go and get a new job, like in the Hatchery and Conditioning Center that’s way out of  civilization, around Wiltshire, that is, I think. 

  “Uh…” I began, but Scotty beat me to it. 

 

  “We were talkin’ ‘bout how The Trio makes all the people united,” he explained, and I nearly looked at him incredulously. I didn’t, thankfully. 

  Another thing you should know about the Thought and Memory Police is that they can catch all your emotions. Worse still, they will be monitoring you, even when you’re in the shower(*shudder* ARE YOU ALL PERVS, I WANT TO KNOW?!?!), sleeping, eating, you name it. And the worst is, of course, the second one. 

  The tele-screens never rest, and so don’t the microphones around the place. Sleeping was the worst because if you talk in your sleep — that’s a green ticket to the Ministry of Love, where they’d torture you, interrogate you, and worse still, use drugs on you. And those drugs were either _soma_ , that makes you feel extreme pleasure, or things that makes you feel more pain than normal. If you don’t talk in your sleep, count yourself lucky — no one wants to know what goes on inside the Ministry of Love. 

 

  Instead, I looked at Scotty thankfully, and looked at Peter, with Jethro and James forming a circle around their leader protectively. I’ve seen this happen when Mark, Angus, and Liam had to do their daily patrolling, and when the Two Minutes Love happens; not only then, Mark, Liam, and Angus were out and about during Love Week as well. 

  I nodded my confirmation. “Er, yeah, that’s exactly what we’ve been talking about, and how we adore them.” 

 

  James smiled at Peter and I looked away at last. We’re safe, at least for now. 

  Peter looked at me next. “Right, of course, Winston,” he said back, impersonating Orwell again. I sometimes think Peter Hamilton Dyer is George Orwell re-incarnated, not that I really believe in such possibilities. 

  Scotty was interested. “It’s Andrew — he’s my namesake,” he explained, and I face-palmed. It wasn’t any use to correct them, not that they cared if they made any mistakes or not. 

  And of course I noticed. 

 

  “Why Winston?” I asked. Winston was the name of another employee in our section, only not the translation wing. More like the Fiction Department. 

  Peter didn’t answer, only he nodded at Scotty and moved on, with James and Jethro, who were staring at us incredulous. I swear to god, the Thought and Memory Polices can do anything. 

 

ooooooooo 

 

  So that was how Work went, and as soon as I got back to my apartment, which wasn’t too large or too small, just fit for my liking, I made a beeline to the journal entry book. I bought that book when I was strolling around the streets, when I was off-duty from the Ministry of Truth. It was in a simple shop, with someone named Mr. Pryce. I didn’t know his full name, though, and I never suspected him. 

  I haven’t decided yet on who to give this journal to, but seems like someone kept staying on my mind, and that was because of what happened around the time of the Two Minutes Love. 

  I think I’d better explain before going into the journal entries. 

 

  The Two Minutes Love was when everyone gets together, and that was where I met the dark-haired woman, whom I don’t really like to think about. According to her dress-up, she seems to be from the Junior Anti-Intimacy League, which works on suppressing any form of human desire for contact and… well… intimacy. You know how. She was right behind me and of course, Angus and Liam were way in front, where the Love started. 

  It was called the Two Minutes Love because us employees have to get up and be all lovey-dovey and envying towards The Trio, which everyone did. It wasn’t like how you wanted to do that or didn’t want to, you do it because you have to follow the crowd. 

  And ever since then, Angus and I exchanged a glance. 

 

  It was so subtle I didn’t even realize it, and only did when Scotty tapped on me, after the Love was finished and everyone went back to normal, with Angus and Mark and Liam looking at each other lovingly. To say I was envious was an understatement, and Scotty, being the extreme-intellect he is, saw that. 

  “I saw that, and what d’you have for Angus?” he’d asked, when we finally got to go out of the Main Gallery, where the Love is held. 

  I didn’t even realize I was trying to suppress thoughts when he said that. 

 

  “Nothing, just a glance.” I said back. That was when Scotty grinned at me. 

  “Ohohoh, so you’ve somethin’ fer Angus, don’tcha?” he asked, “now that’s some kind of thought-memorycrime going on!” 

  I didn’t answer him; instead, I just sighed in exasperation. God knows why I told him about the glance! 

 

  OK, back to the journal entries. I still don’t know who should I give it to, but my mind kept telling me that Angus might understand. Fine, let’s see how that goes, that is, if I don’t get in more trouble than I’m already in. 

 

  **“** _May 3rd, 2016_

 

_Today was a really random day, and the only interesting thing was that instead of Joseph, Johnny, and Samuel patrolling Scotty and my area, it is Peter and his entourage. If I said I expected them, that’s a lie. I totally didn’t expect them, and thought Scotty would be Vaporized because Peter heard us talking about The Trio._

_According to one member of The Trio(I don’t want to name who)…_ **”**  

 

  I paused writing there. I know who knows about Scotty’s wide range of vocabulary. From curse words to slang to normal vocabs. Still, I don’t know who was I writing for, and as usual, by the impulse of making only subtle hints, I decided to continue my writing. 

 

  **“** _… his vocab was too large and he was suspected. Now, Scotty is oblivious and I fear someday he might be Vaporized as well, or maybe exiled to the Savage Civilization that’s way far from… well… our normal civilization(that is, if this civilization we’re living in_ IS _normal). Or worse, he might be caught by the Thought and Memory Police. What happens then, I don’t want to know._

 _Peter seemed to be similar to Mr Pryce, whom I got to know after strolling around downtown one day. He didn’t really question about Scotty’s word choices, which can switch from Newspeak to Oldspeak as quick as a blink, but his cronies… no, wrong word…_ companions _, noticed, especially Jethro._

_Also, something else about Peter and Company. Peter’s been calling me Winston Smith since god knows how long, and if that’s my pseudonym, I hope y’all won’t find it too strange. Personally, I think that’s too Orwellian to include in here._

 

 _I know this is random, but bear with me here. There’s something else that I want to tell you, but it’s too risky, as usual. I’ll be seeing to some better methods for my plan to work, so don’t be surprised if you don’t see me updating this quickly._ **”**  

 

oOo 

 

End chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: OK, suuuuuuper loooong chapter, I know. But get ready for more long ones, because!


	3. (Andrew Gower POV)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter will be the first one venturing into Brave New World territory, because this book is a multi-crossover one.

  I found out something really interesting the next day when I went to work. For some reason, I kept doing that, finding interesting things when going to work. 

  OK, let me explain. The phenomenon was, again, explained to me by Scotty, who seemed to know about the inner-workings of The Trio better than any of the rest of us. We were in the lounge when that happened, that is, when he told me about his latest theory that concerned Mark Rylance and his henchmen(no, wrong word — COMPANIONS). And its name was, ‘You Can Literally Make Up People By Writing A Convincing Article About Said Person, Whomever You Like, But He or She’d Better Be A Lover’. 

  To say I was incredulous again was an understatement. 

 

  “You know you’re going to get Vaporized if you keep this up, don’t you?” I asked. This day was kind of special, since I remembered that according to the tele-screens, some of us from the Ministry of Truth were to go over to the Hatchery and Conditioning Center in rural Wiltshire. When Scotty told me what he knew, I remembered about the excavation. “Also, that reminds me, we’re going to go over to the Hatchery and Conditioning Center with Mark and Companions today, maybe, that is.” 

  Of course, I knew where that was. 

 

  The Center of Hatchery and Conditioning was in rural Wiltshire, and a top-secret base. Kind of like Area 51 in the US, where they possibly house extra-terrestrials like Roswell Greys. But the Center of Hatchery and Conditioning didn’t do that — they did more atrocious experiments, like using either human or cloning. Sometimes, I think if it wasn’t of them, the people around my workplace wouldn’t be so wooden, like how Mark Rylance and Companions are, whenever they’re patrolling the area. 

  We were, as usual, in the lounge, because many of our colleagues were either unavailable or just plain not here yet. Scotty was the one who loved to stay in the lounges, not me. Usually, we’ll just get Victory Coffee or Victory Wine there. 

  Sipping his Victory Tea, Scotty beamed at me. 

 

  “I sure hope we’ll be the ones invited there, since there’s something going on, and there’s new creatures.” he told me. 

  I almost forgot to tell you, dear reader(s), this. The so-called Center for Hatchery and Conditioning was slightly connected to how London functioned these days. The Anti-Intimacy League wants to suppress every single human emotion, from anger to love, to sadness(which I couldn’t really say no to) to lust(which is also something I couldn’t say no to, because it sounds disturbing, especially when you’re thinking of someone who may or may not love you back). And of course, it’s all sexual and non-sexual when coming to that. I won’t tell you more, since it’s getting Unorthodox. 

  Orthodoxy was, and still is, important in our current society. Dirty thoughts are not allowed, that is, unless you’re The Party. That again, was told to me via Scotty, who loved to invent every single myth he could about Mark Rylance and his companions. 

  And the Center for Hatchery and Conditioning, was such place that half-encouraged… well… _sexual_ intimacy, and half-didn’t. I thought it sounded like an Aldous Huxley story. 

 

  “Wellllllll… maybe,” I said back, after hearing him ramble on and on about the Hatchery center. “And about what kind of intimacy they encourage and don’t… I think we’re getting into the Unorthodox territory. Don’t people come from bottles there?” 

  Scotty beamed at me. “SURE THEY DO!” he yelled, “now you get it, and we’re so going to see what the new creatures are.” 

  I sighed in slight exasperation at that. Heavens know what kind of trouble he might land in later on. 

 

(Some hours later…) 

 

  **“** _May 4th, noon(-ish, that is); still 2016._

 

_I’m currently writing this while Scotty and I are on the train, along with some other members of the Ministry of Truth, to Wiltshire, where the Hatchery Center is. I have to tell you this, now, and if you remember about my last journal entry before this thread, you might understand. I don’t know, but seems like Ian and Patrick are successful in their own ways, and Mark and Co. are either in danger of further competition or worse, separation._

_I’m not saying I’m worried about them getting separated; frankly, if I’m honest to myself, I have to say I couldn’t really care less. I might get Vaporized, or exiled to the Savage Civilization, or worse, be an unperson. ‘Unperson’ is Newspeak for ‘one not existing — his or her files and every trace is wiped out from existence, and their friends and family would never remember them’. It sounds terrifying, but I’m expecting every day for The Trio to find out about this._

 

 _I’ll be writing more after we arrive, because Scotty is asking me about what I’m writing, and I can’t just risk his, and my own, life on whatever I’m writing. Stay tuned for more, please._ **”**  

 

  When I looked up from writing, Scotty was staring interested at me. Almost as soon, I remembered about not trusting even your closest friends — they might or might not be Thought and Memory Polices. I must’ve forgotten about Scotty, though. 

  “What?” I mumbled lamely, knowing what he wanted to know about. The journal entries, and why am I doing them. 

  Just as expected, Scotty smirked at me. 

 

  “Keepin’ a journal entry thread?” he asked, and I felt like he was already a Thought and Memory Police. “Anyways, it’s fine, or it will be. The Thought and Memory Polices won’ be followin’ us that much far north.” 

  _If only that’s true_ , I thought, then scraping it. “It’s something I want to… well… do while over at the facility,” I said back, “maybe I’d get a crack at it.” 

  That was when Scotty jumped up in excitement. 

 

  “OH, AND ANDS, DID I TELL YA? YA’VE TO NOTE THIS:” here, he whispered this, because in our society, it’s thought-memorycrime to say this, “they still live via the hierarchy system.” 

  Of course I’ve heard. You can hear almost anything when coming to the tele-screens. If it wasn’t of Liam Brennan talking to Roger Lloyd Pack, the latter the current director for the facility we were about to go to, one wouldn’t’ve known their motives at the facility. Being the director, naturally Roger was an Alpha Double-Plus, with his assistants David Jason and Nicholas Lyndhurst either plain Alphas or Alpha Minuses. 

  I was about to say something when Scotty looked at me again. 

 

  “And speakin’ o’ the Hatchery Facility, have ya heard? There’s a… well… slight scandal going on in The Party, an’ that’s why they wantta get rid o’ us, albeit temporarily.” he said, not even caring if we were being monitored, which was constant. 

  I jumped up. I never understood how he knew about the scandal that truly was going on around the Ministry of Love. I’ll be explaining more in the journal entries, because I’m seriously feeling upset on knowing about it. 

  “How…?” 

  “How else? The tele-screens and the photos.” 

 

  I cringed hard internally. I knew that The Trio would find trouble as soon as they allow one of the facility personnel into one of the ministries. It was someone named Daniel Robin, whom I never had anything against him, at least before I knew about the scandal. I’ll be explaining it soon, I promise. 

 

ooooooooo 

 

  To say it was an almost relief to finally get to Wiltshire was an understatement, and as soon as we got on the helicopters, which would take us to the facility, I made sure to write down everything that’s been going on. 

  Wiltshire was a very small county, and if the rumor was correct, Mark had lived here for some time, that is, when he had to be a secretary called Thomas Cromwell. I don’t know how much of that is true, so just bear with me here. There were plenty of plains, and had a bird-eye view when you ride on a helicopter and look down. Scotty had been stunned and I didn’t blame him. There were more green in Wiltshire than in London, the latter being a city and the former being more like a county with plenty of old-fashioned buildings. It looked like a place where a Shakespeare movie or play might be screened. 

  The flight left the downtown quickly and soon we were back in the country-side, and to say it was remote was an understatement. It was almost like how I imagined Scotland, with their mythologies and urban legends and whatnot. 

 

  The facility was a white-gray building with the words, ‘Community’, ‘Stability’, and ‘Identity(not in that particular order) written above it, the words, ‘Wiltshire Center for Hatchery and Conditioning’ was written. 

  “We’re here.” when we got off the helicopter, with one of the facility personnel ushering us inside, Scotty said to me. I was stunned, or, more than stunned. 

  Unlike our society, which boasted, ‘Ignorance is strength!’, ‘freedom is slavery!’, and ‘war is peace!’, the facility for hatcheries and conditioning was in the middle of nowhere, exactly like Area 51 in the US. 

 

  We entered the facility after the personnel swiped their card on the scanners, and Nicholas Lyndhurst was the one who greeted us when we reached the main hall. The Main Hall, as I observed, looked kind of like the Ever-After Foundation that I read about somewhere… I couldn’t remember where, though; maybe in one of Mr. Pryce’s book-rooms of his inn? 

  “Welcome to Wiltshire’s Center for Hatchery and Conditioning, I’m Nicholas Lyndhurst.” when we all gathered together, Nicholas began. Like the other personnel, he was wearing his white lab coat and holding a clipboard. “I’ll be showing off the most recent discoveries of science, not only how people come out from bottles, also our discovery of astounding life-forms.” 

  We started walking after he announced that one. 

 

  As we walked down the corridors, I looked at Scotty, who was looking around at the equipments and biological laboratories. If I remembered correctly, there was also a chemistry laboratory. 

  “This looks like the interior of the Ever-After Foundation, doesn’t it?” when we got to a laboratory, he asked me. Unbeknownst to him, I thought the same. 

  “Too true.” 

 

  Entering the laboratory, we saw that there were some researchers putting chemicals into the test tubes and beakers. 

  “So, Sally, Doug haven’t been asking for you, has he?” turning to one of the female researchers, he asked, and Scotty nudged me. 

  Of course I heard what he was saying. And the female didn’t even look surprised. 

  “I shouldn’t be hanging out with him any longer,” she said back, “I’ll be looking to it.” 

 

  I did not want to believe what I just heard. Scotty had been telling me about the facility workers dating each other and back and forth — seems like the saying of ‘everyone belongs to everyone else’ really was relevant here. 

 

( _Some time later…_ ) 

 

  “ _May 4th, afternoon(still -ish, because I have NO idea what time it is now, I think we’ve been here for way longer than normal), 2016_

 

_I’m writing this as we’re waiting for the director to tend to us. OK, explanation time. I’m still stunned about Nicholas Lyndhurst asking Sally Hawkins(whom I got to know because as soon as she saw me, she had a fancy on me — as usual, that was said to me via Scotty, so bear with me here, please!) about her personal life. According to her, she’s been dating fellow researcher Doug Jones for quite some time, and she might be moving on to him. God knows how’ll Roger Lloyd Pack think of that._

_Anyways, I really have to tell you about the scandal I promised to tell you previously. It seemed to be affecting Scotty as well, and Juliet Stevenson, who was another of us staff members of the Ministry of Truth._

 

_It started around when… I don’t know… around the time when Mark and Liam got back from their daily patrolling around London. Again, humor me here, because I heard this from Scotty, whom I already told you was an extreme gossip-obsessed individual, and especially when coming to The Trio and The Party._

_Angus had been seeing someone lately, and Liam was upset. I guess he might be jealous, and Mark was indifferent. As the leader, he has to get used to everything his Significant Others do. ‘Significant Others’ was how Scotty put it as. I didn’t believe it until the presses stopped and the headlines started screaming._

_Of course, I saw it, just earlier today before I got to work._

 

 _‘_ Angus Wright and Daniel Robin, Together? _’ the headline asked, with the two individuals standing together, with some photos of them smiling and beaming at each other. Another one had them way too close for comfort as they hugged each other._

_One of the photos had Scotty inside and according to him, he couldn’t remember when it happened. This is it for now, because the director is coming and I promise to continue as soon as possible._

_Please stand by…_ **”**  

 

  Roger Lloyd Pack entered and everyone quieted. Scotty looked at me. 

  “Right, originally it was Angus who was the director, but because of the Lovedom in Wiltshire, he left and became a Trio with Mark and Liam. They’ve been friends for a long time, though, and Angus actually did love Mark, romantically, that is. At first, Liam was reluctant to share the latter with the former, but later found he had feelings for said former, so that’s how come that’s the birth of The Trio. Or, The Fantastic Threesome.” he grinned. I smiled a little bit back. How he knew was beyond me, and possibly via the news — the news and media are obsessed with them, and I really do mean obsessed. 

  Roger was right in the middle of talking about how the researchers see to the beings, or rather, creatures when Scotty told me the alternate info. I looked up. 

 

  “And why’s this important?” I whispered, as we watched the sentient beings merge with one of the rabbits, which later jumped around and was later scooped up again by Alan Rickman, who put it into a separate cage, not wanting it to affect the other animals. Scotty was about to answer when Roger said, “this is the first time humans encountered, or rather, made first contact, with sentient beings, which are these cyclopean life-forms and the symbiotes. This is a break-through for science once we decide whether humanity can take the news and not become insane as we predicted.” 

  Everyone “oooooooh”-ed, even when you’re not really sure about Lovecraftian monsters being told to the public. I had a feeling that this seemed to be a _Brave New World_ and _The Missing Link_ cross-over. 

  Finally, they used one of the subjects, no longer animals, but humans; Roger turned to us again. 

 

  “Now that’s the most important part of your visit, and further research are being committed.” he said, and led us out again, with the subject finally shrieking on letting him out. Roger ignored him and John Challis, one of the researchers who was observing on the Subject, snapped, “oh for Ford’s sake, be quiet!” and used something to knock the subject over. I didn’t know I was holding my breath until we got out of the laboratory. 

 

oooooooo 

 

  It was finally calm when we got out of the laboratory, when Scotty looked at me and said, “told you, they started using human experiments after using animals, and whatever Sally was doing, she was injecting chemicals into the bottles, where the unborns are housed.” 

  I cringed again. For some reason that made me queasy. 

  “Please, Scotty, no more.” when we finally got into the lifts, which allowed us to look out side, I said, and Scotty, as usual, cracked up. 

 

  I guess I’d better stop boring you with whatever Scotty and I conversed about, while Roger and some others of our entourage started chatting about said person’s past endeavors. First, the lifts. As I’ve observed, almost all the lifts were close to the window, and when you look out of it, you can have a bird-eye view as soon as it ascends. That was one technology The Party refused us to have, so I was thankful when I got to experience this. 

  “Wiltshire is one of the first states in Airstrip One to have lifts which allows the passenger to get a look outside,” when Scotty exclaimed about London not having one of those types of lifts, Roger looked over at us and said. “The Party allowed us to have those, even when most of our civilization isn’t the same.” 

  Another thing, dear reader(s). I almost forgot to tell you that Roger wasn’t the original director. Instead, it’s Leonard Nimoy. I’ll explain later, because we’ve to be as quiet as we can when we get to our floor. 

 

  After almost an endless elevator ride, we arrived at the 14th floor, where Nicholas announced that this was the place where the babies newly-born(via bottles, of course!) were conditioned. According to Roger, the 10th floor and beyond are usually used for conditioning, while 9 and below are used for experiments and the testing of subjects. Again, I got a vibe that this was from some Aldous Huxley novella. 

  “You’re right,” when we entered a room after walking down a long and dim corridor, with white walls, almost similar to a hospital, instead of some facility for conditioning and hatcheries, said Scotty, as if reading my mind. I looked incredulous at him. 

  “How…” as usual, he just smiled. 

 

  Inside the room, there were sleeping infants, all dressed in khaki. 

  “They’re Gammas, and on the 13th floor are Betas and Alphas,” explained Nicholas, and we could hear some kind of broadcasting from the speakers. I was immediately reminded of the tele-screens back in London, like clockwork, when I spotted them. 

  Looking down at one of them, Roger looked up again. 

 

  “There’re five stages of infants in this facility. The highest are the Alpha Double-Plus, with the Alpha Plus, the Alphas, and finally, the Alpha Minuses.” he began, with Scotty nudging me again. I understood why — _Brave New World_ references, of course! “Following are the Betas, which also follows the same cycle; and the Gammas, the Deltas, and finally, Omegas and Epsilons.” 

  I looked up at that one. There weren’t Omegas in the Huxley novella, for some reason, but before I could commit thought-memorycrime, Scotty elbowed me, with me stifling a yelp. 

  “This is too interesting,” instead, he muttered to me, just as Nicholas rapped the table loudly, causing all the infants to wake up and cry loudly. 

  I looked up again. What was that for? 

 

  “NOW,” he yelled above the racket, “THIS IS THE FIRST EXPERIMENT!” And to one of the Healers, he said, “get them to prepare the testing and monitoring. Roger, we’ll have to see to the Betas now. They have to be awake already.” 

  Roger nodded and made a beeline to the door, with me still puzzled. So it was time for what? 

 

( _Several minutes later…_ )  

 

  Just as Roger had said, the 13th floor was specially for Alphas and Betas, while, according to Nicholas, the Gammas and Deltas were on the 14th floor, and finally, the Omegas and the Epsilons were on the 15th floor. 

  Walking down another loooooooong white corridor that looked more like a place out of a hospital wing, instead of a facility wing, we got to another room, this time, with a label. ‘Betas’, it said. 

  Roger gently knocked and entered, along with his train, aka us. 

 

  Sure enough, the Betas were awake and playing with books and flowers, but all with an alarm near them. I gulped when I saw that. 

  “What…” 

  Scotty grinned. “This is getting too interesting,” he mumbled, as Roger and Nicholas made all the infants into single file and made them get towards the books. 

  And again, it wasn’t until slightly later did I realize their experiment. 

 

  Let me explain. The Betas crawled towards the books first and Nicholas sounded the alarm, causing the infants to shriek and cry loudly, and go towards the flowers. Some of them abandoned the books entirely and went to the flowers even before the alarms sounded. They were conditioning the infants. 

  “So you see,” as soon as I got that conclusion down in my journal, Roger said, without any speck of remorse or anything of the usual, “by pressing the alarms whenever they get close to books, they’ll be finally conditioned to know that they shouldn’t get close to any form of literature or even books at all. Now, Nicholas, start with the Pluses.” 

  Scotty and I exchanged a glance. This was a morbid form of Pavlov Effect. 

 

  “And they use the Bokanovsky Process here too, I forgot ta tell ya,” when the infants, who ignored the books and went to the flowers, Nicholas pressed the alarm, causing the racket to start all over again, Scotty said to me, “that means via one egg, they sep’rate it into 99 equiv’lent eggs, via quick binary fission. Thass how come look-alikes happ’n.” 

  Immediately I got shivers down my backbone. If only he didn’t tell me that. 

 

( _Some time later…_ ) 

 

  It was way later did we have to leave the facility and go to our respective apartments in Wiltshire, and I finally got the time to write in the journal fully. I was still disturbed by what was going on at the Hatchery Center, and certainly didn’t want to be exiled there. 

  Scotty, on the other hand, was thrilled, especially when he heard Nicholas say something about us visiting some of our special subjects tomorrow. I’m hoping it’s extra-terrestrials, since it was rumored that they housed some, since it was, again, rumored to be partnering up with Area 51. 

 

  **“** _May 4th, evening, 2016_

 

 _OK, today was crazy, and by crazy, I mean it literally and figuratively. Sure, Roger was the director and was flocked by Nicholas Lyndhurst for most of the time, only changing to David Jason when it’s absolutely necessary. I don’t know why(as usual, because we can never know why) I couldn’t stop thinking of_ Brave New World _when coming to the facility. Still, that’s the least of my worries._

_What is absolutely shocking was that they had the kids they raised, or rather, conditioned and born from bottles, engaging in games we’re not supposed to be doing. I’m not describing it further, but yes, they encourage intimacy — within young kids._

 

_We saw this young girl when we got outside, before we came here to the apartments. She didn’t want to engage in those… well… suggestive games with another little boy, and apparently she had a defect. I don’t know, but this sounds mysteriously like what happened way in the past — consent. ‘Consent’ do not exist in Wiltshire, apparently, and Scotty had been making jokes about Angus and Mark ever since we saw that. Of course, I didn’t look closely — I still want my sanity and my eyes to be alright._

_I told him to shut up about it already, so now he’s finally finished. And speaking of Angus and Mark, there’s something else I heard from… you guessed it, Scotty… that might intrigue you to no end, I’m sure._

 

_There’s a phenomenon going on back in London, and the Ministries are getting crazy and messed up._

_I don’t know what happened, and certainly don’t want to know if Angus and Daniel are really starting a secret relationship together, outside of the former’s already-well-known affair with Mark and Liam, which were being updated every few minutes on the tele-screens, even here in Wiltshire. As mentioned, I didn’t suspect them when coming to their personal lives, but this has to be a coincidence._

_We’ll be going back to London tomorrow, so I think I’ll be able to hear more then._ **”**  

 

  I put down my pen just in time to hear Scotty ask, “so speakin' o’ the oddity thass gon’ on ‘round the hatchery, they’re usin’ Bokanovski Process, along wi’ clonin’ techniques, and conditionin’? Tis almost like how we were like back in London, only we were taught by… well… The Party. Shakespeare and Marlowe, that is.” 

  I nodded. To say the truth, I didn’t want to know what they would do to Roswell Greys, if they have any. 

 

oOo 

 

End chapter 3


	4. (Andrew Gower POV)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This was inspired by theories on what else could the Hatchery and Conditioning Center be housing, when I was reading Brave New World.

  Wiltshire had a very different climate than London and I found out the usual way after Scotty and I got breakfast sent to us via Room Service. I didn’t realize there were room service and as usual, Scotty laughed at me because apparently, you guessed it, The TRIO used to talk about business ventures with Wiltshire; that is, if Oceania would stop its feud with either Eastasia or Eurasia, whichever one you want to believe, they hardly care, that is, for now. 

  Scotty was excited today because we were going to the Hatchery and Conditioning Center again, but this time, we’re going to the top-secret base that’s branched out from that facility. 

 

  “SO NO MORE BOKANOVSKI PROCESSES OR… WELL… _SUGGESTIVE_ THEMES GOING ON!” he yelled, after our food got to our room. I had no idea if he already finished all our normal coffee. 

  One other thing, dear reader(s). Remember I told you about us drinking Victory Coffee back in London? Yes? Great. But here, it’s way different, almost like outside Oceania, which is, (don’t tell The Party or The Trio), a nickname for Britain. Yes, dear reader(s), the UK existed, and it was before the Revolution, which we saw The Party rise up, along with The Trio, aka Mark Rylance and Company. I’m committing thought-memorycrime here, so I’ll be telling you more about this in a private section of journal entry threads I plan to start today, after we get to the top-secret base. 

  I looked at Scotty. He looked more stoned out than normal, and I guess that’s what normal coffee might do to you. 

 

  “You’re not getting any more chocolate or _soma_ if you keep this up, remember, we’re still in Oceania.” I reminded, as I tried to take a sip of whatever he had. It did taste amazing, to say the least, and a pleasant substitute for the usual Victory Coffee. 

  As usual, Scotty ignored me. “Y’know the rumours ‘bout Mark and his companions? If they keep that up, the proles will know soon enough.” he smiled winningly at me, and I smiled a little bit back. 

  Another thing, dear readers, the Proles. 

 

  The Proles, or in Oldspeak, ‘the haters towards Mark and Company’, were the opposite of the Thought and Memory Polices. The Thought and Memory Polices are working for Mark and Co, while the proles are not. Of course, anyone can be a prole — Patrick and Ian’s Lovers(in Oldspeak, ‘fans’), Antony’s Lovers, etc. And also, don’t forget anyone who dislikes or didn’t care about Mark and Co. 

  If anyone is a Lover for anyone else, like if Scotty’s a Lover of Mark, and I’m not, that basically makes me a prole, which is usually scorned upon in London. And even crazier is this: according to Scotty again, Peter Hamilton Dyer was the one who invented it, according to Peter himself. 

  Which gets us back to the topic. 

 

  “D’you have to say that?” standing up, I went over to the window and asked, “also, when’re we leaving?” 

  Scotty grinned again. “Eager ta leave already?” 

  I sighed in exasperation. “No.” 

  Again, Scotty thought of it as something totally unrelated to anything. 

 

  “So still thinkin’ ‘bout Angus and Daniel?” after a silence that was a micro-second, he asked again, this time grinning with mirth. 

  I ignored him. Wherever he thought of that, I didn’t know and didn’t want to know. 

 

ooooooooo 

 

  We went, again, via helicopter to the facility, mainly because the people are too lazy to take ground transportations, according to Scotty. I didn’t know where he got that information from, and frankly, I didn’t want to know. All I know was that it was a theory, and a possible one as well. Anyways, who am I to judge? 

  Wiltshire, from what I gathered from what Mark had out in the press, was where he used to be with Mr. Pryce. I remembered that, of course, and it’s all trust to Scotty for reminding me. Riding in a helicopter seems to be boring for him, and I didn’t blame him. Since he’s Irish, he’s seen way too many sceneries and just want some action. 

  When we arrived at the base, it was John Challis and Alan Rickman who greeted us. 

 

  Scotty beamed at me when he saw him. “HAH, so guess what, Ands?” he asked; I was about to answer that when I remembered it was rhetorical. Another thing, ‘Ands’ is my nickname by Scotty, because we have the exact same name — Andrew. And in order to tell us apart, I call him ‘Scotty’ and he calls me ‘Ands’, which isn’t really far from what we’re mutually called, “John Challis is actually one of those researchers for extra-terrestrial life, like Roswell Greys, along with Alan Rickman, whom I already knew would be researching that. And that’s because of _Galaxy Quest_.” 

  I had no idea what he was talking about when Roger’s clan landed next to our helicopter, with Scotty making ‘WOO!’ signs at me. I rolled my eyes at him. 

 

  “So for today, we’re allowing you to see to the top-secret base of the Hatchery center,” when Roger got in front of John and Alan, he began, “it was requested by The Trio, who wanted you to start this expedition to the possibly unknown. When you reach the Site, you’ll be joined by Leonard Nimoy and David Bowie.” 

  Scotty’s eyes went big and wide at him, ignoring the last line. 

  “EXPEDITION?” he hollered, and Sean Lock, Alan Davies, and that dark-haired woman laughed at his antics. I don’t know why, but I seriously think that the dark-haired woman might be one of the Thought and Memory Polices, even though she, Sean, and Alan were at the Fiction Department of the Ministry of Truth, back in London. 

  Roger nodded, still cool as a cucumber. 

  Scotty beamed at me as Roger motioned for David to take us inside. 

 

  This time, we went through a smaller great hall and a slightly more narrow corridor than yesterday’s, and towards a Site, where they named as Top-Secret Experimentation Laboratory. Again, there were some other staff members, all with white lab coats, with some guards around the containment chambers. 

  I suppressed a shudder when I saw that. I didn’t want to know what might happen if there were intruders — at least the experiments would be safe, wouldn’t they? 

  Sure enough, as soon as we entered the room, another staff member got out. Of course, Leonard. 

 

  OK, I’d better note this down in the journal entry threads, just to explain it in an easier way. 

 

  **“** _May 5th, Morning(again, -ish, because I have no idea what time it is), 2016_

 

_After what happened yesterday, we’re back in the facility, and this time, seeing to some top-secret experiments or contained creatures. I didn’t know that the hatchery and conditioning center had Roswell Greys, but as usual, it was Scotty who suspected them when Sean asked about what was in the Sites yesterday. Nicholas had said it was top-secret, and thus, the theory was born._

_Scotty was really enthusiastic today because of us finally getting the chance to see those mysterious beings, and the theory on the Center for Hatchery and Conditioning is working together with Area 51, unbeknownst to The Party, was something that really has to be looked in to. I didn’t know Scotty was such a sci-fi enthusiast, until then, that is._

_So yes, today’s threads should be fun for all the science fiction enthusiasts out there._

 

_I don’t know what might we see after we got into the room, with Scotty completely giddy with excitement, and Alan(Davies) and Sean completely stunned. The latter was smirking at the former when we entered and saw the beds, or incubators which they used to treat the injured. Scotty is trying to get me to see and hear something, so I’d better stop here. This really is getting too much, especially when we’ve completely different tastes in movies and genres and whatnot._

_I’ll be updating this soon, and yes, it should happen as soon as we get back to London, that is, if the tele-screens wouldn’t be screaming random songs — sorry, Peter! — and telling everyone everything about Angus’s new flame. The latter one I couldn’t stand for two reasons, and you have to promise me not to tell Scotty reason no. 2. Promise? OK._

 

_The first reason is that I believe everyone should have the right to feel protected, and of course, safe in their private lives._

 

_And the second… (this is risky)… I don’t know if it’s true or not, but Angus seemed to be speaking to me when saying about us meeting in a place without darkness. That message had been in my head for god knows how long, and I don’t want, and don’t need, to tell Scotty. I’m seriously having trust issues now, especially when people are constantly not being able to trust one another._

_Whatever my theories may be, I in all honesty hope I’m just rambling._ **”**  

 

  “… and they’re still weak, as David and I realized way later than we wanted to realize.” Leonard was saying, and Scotty smirked at me, saying, “which is translated as: we’re housing Roswell Greys, Talians, and whatnot, and we don’t want you to tell anyone.” 

  I ignored him and listened to Leonard instead, as David finally motioned for John and Alan, to signal they're free to leave. 

  There seemed to be an autopsy going on, and Scotty was about to ask when David said, “this is one of the Greys we found after hearing a witness story. I have to say, this isn’t like anything we’ve seen.” 

  Scotty turned to me and beamed. 

 

  “It must be ET, isn’t it?” he asked, giggling, and I sighed in exasperation. Fortunately, David and Leonard didn’t hear him. 

  “And we also found Vulcans,” at that, David finally smiled a little bit at Leonard, in a way that reminded me strongly of Scotty himself. “They’re the humanoid extra-terrestrials that’s first theorized to exist in the television show of _Star Trek_ , remember?” 

  I guess David would’ve continued rambling, and smiling with mirth, if Leonard didn’t finally lose his cool and give him an Angus Wright-approved stare. 

 

  “I wouldn’t say that if I were you.” he said back, sounding more like Mark than Angus, who would’ve given you the silent treatment, after a string of even worse insults. 

  Scotty beamed at me again and I finally decided to just finish my entry instead of continue listening. 

  “That’s like when Mark told the world about how he and Angus got into a fight, remember?” he elbowed me and asked. 

  I looked back up. 

 

  “No I don’t.” and with that, I continued the entry, officially, that is. 

 

  **“** _Still May 5th, 2016_

 

_This is an update before we go back to London. Apparently, Scotty, Sean, and Alan(Davies)’s theories were true — they did house Roswell Greys, and one of them looked better than the others. We got to see them up closer afterwards, and Sean and Alan had to control themselves to not holler. I don’t think if Mark and Co were sci-fi fans, they would’ve contained their excitement._

_I never expected this, and I hope no one’ll be so foolish enough to tell this out to the public. There’s a reason why Roswell Grays are in containment, and/or monitored by scientists in these secret foundations. They won’t feel free either, just like how we are, when in London. We’re the Grays and The Party and The Trio are the scientists._

_I know you’re also still wondering about Angus and Daniel, but I promise I’ll be going back to them afterwards._

 

 _Scotty tried to get closer to the Gray but David gently pushed him further. Apparently it’s too risky, and whatever injury it endured I don’t want to know, nor am I interested. It’s already scary to look at, and I’ll be updating this after we go back to London. Please stand by…_ **”**  

 

( _Some time later…_ ) 

 

  It was in the afternoon, around 2 or 3, did we start packing up and got ready to go back to London. I was thrilled and not thrilled at the same time, because we didn’t really get a look at the Savage Civilization, not that I actually wanted to get a look at that. I was thrilled because finally, we could get a closer look at whatever that’s been going on behind the scenes of the recent drama Scotty told me about. 

  As usual, I made the near-fatal mistake on telling him, because I wrote the question down in the entry threads I made in the journal. That was when we got on the train, with Roger and the others calling us and saying good-bye, with David Jason joking, “nice one, Trig!” 

  I didn’t listen so I wrote the question about Angus and Daniel down. 

 

  Scotty saw that and smirked at me. “So you’re wondering too?” he asked, looking at me knowingly. I swear, Angus’s eyes and Scotty’s eyes are no different — changing from gentle to fierce with just a blink, and changing from neutral to too-knowing. 

  I nearly jumped through the ceiling when I heard him. To be frank, I nearly forgot he was in the train compartment with me, so absorbed was I in fixing the entries and subconsciously writing down the questions. 

  I looked up. “Uh… what?” 

  Scotty smirked. “Y’know. About the recent scandal?” 

 

  I was about to say something when he finally got comfy and looked at me, his eyes serious now. 

  “Anyways, I was meanin’ t’ask ya, why’re ya so concerned ‘bout the scandal?” he finally asked, and I looked out the window, pretending I was wondering when was the train leaving the station. We either take the train at the station or take freights; since I hate freight trains(because… don’t laugh, please… they’re creepy and might be full of… *shudder* mice and other types of rodents), so before Scotty could question me, I picked the former train choice. And here we are. 

  I swallowed. So, why was I so concerned about Angus and Daniel? 

 

  “Uh… because what’ll Mark say if he knows?” I asked back, lamely. 

  Scotty nearly fell of his seat laughing his head off. 

  “Ands, _you_? _Concerned_ , about what _Mark_ thinks?” he jeered, and I sighed in relief. Better him laughing at me on what I said than my reason for not taking the freight train, which he mentioned was an adventure. 

  I looked up in frustration. I could never satisfy what he wanted to know. 

  “Not… Mark, not him per se,” I tried to explain, “it’s just that don’t you think Daniel and Angus are too sudden?” 

  Again, I realized my mistake too late. 

 

  Scotty laughed harder and had to cling onto the small table for support. Brilliant, I just implied what Angus seemed to tell me. 

 

ooooooo 

 

  Back in London, I had to go back to Victory Mansions, which weren’t mansions at all, but very old villas, with very ‘eh’ heating, but with so-so running water, a bathroom and a shower. Also, they had a small kitchen too. I wondered if Mark, Liam, and Angus lived way up in the Ministry of Love or something. 

  It had been way later did we finally got to London, and since I don’t really have work during the night-time, I’m writing down what we saw and what we experienced back when we were in Wiltshire, that is, if I can make sure the tele-screen won’t be screaming, “OH NO! NO WAY, NO WAY, NO WAY; THIS DID NOT JUST HAPPEN: ‘MARK RYLANCE SAYS HE AND ANGUS ARE _BREAKING UP_ ’???? BREAKING NEWS! (NO PUN INTENDED, _AT ALL_ , FOLKS.)” 

  For now, the tele-screen is fine, so I’ll get to the business. 

 

  **“** _May 5, London, evening, 2016_

 

_Hah, I finally got the time and how it looks outside. It’s dark, so it’s now evening._

_London looks very different when it’s finally dark, with the small lights littering around Victory Mansions. I’d better explain about the so-called mansions, since they’re not even mansions, but small villas, around… roughly… 268.9 square meters? That’s pretty spacey, but (brace yourselves, and humor me here, please — I have no other sources except for this one) according to Scotty, The Party and The Trio lived in suites on top of Buckingham Palace — that’s where The Party resided, and I’ve heard even the royal family had to listen to what they say(*evil grin*). And along with them, The Trio, who had a suite both inside Buckingham Palace and the Ministry of Love. Insane, isn’t it?_

_Victory Mansions, according to Peter Hamilton Dyer, was invented by George Orwell, who was the novelist for the novel named_ 1984 _. Don’t get me wrong, I think our society is really similar to that now — with Victory Mansions, Victory Coffee, desserts, you name it — but why did Orwell name a novel after a time period was beyond me. And here’s more crazy things._

 

_This was heard by me first-hand, and it was already spreading amongst the scientists in the hatchery and conditioning center. First ones infected were Alan Rickman and of course, another scientist, who was called Maggie Smith; and along with those two, Thomas “Tom” Courtenay. Maggie was heard being called ‘Minerva’ by Alan, and at the same time, said person was called by Maggie ‘Severus’. That was the first signs, and later on, David Jason started calling Nicholas Lyndhurst ‘Rodney’, which wasn’t even his name._

_That wasn’t the weirdest. The weirdest one was that David wasn’t the only one, Roger was called by him as ‘Trigger’, as if they were some characters in this television show of_ Only Fools and Horses _._

_And the last one was what I heard from the call._

 

_I’m kind of fearing this phenomenon, because Peter already started parading as George Orwell, while another woman, from the Fiction Department, started getting too close for comfort with him. *Cringe*_

_That’s about it, and I’ll be updating this ASAP, promise._ **”**  

 

  Closing the journal, I understood I got kind of out of the topic, but this was too much. I’ll be asking Scotty tomorrow, and till now, this is all. 

 

oOo 

 

End chapter 4


	5. (David Jason POV)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A kind reminder — this story is going to be jumping from one novel/play to another, and it’ll be exploring television shows as well, so bear that in mind, and enjoy! 
> 
> A/N 2: Something else — this and later chapters about the Hatchery and Conditioning Center would be telling stories on what happened BEFORE Andrews Gower and Scott got there!

The Center of Hatchery and Conditioning is one of the top-secret bases that are used for biological research and cloning techniques, along with a society that bides from these rules, ‘Stability, ‘Identity’, and ‘Community’; not necessarily in that order. Again, Roger Lloyd Pack, me and Nicholas Lyndhurst’s manager and the current director for the center, was leading a group of new researchers on the latest research we were heading towards.   
The Bokanovsky process was one of the experiments we encountered, which introduced to a type of cloning techniques without the need of a… well… parental… figure. A reminder, in this society outside of London, where it bides by these three rules: ‘Ignorance Is Strength’, ‘War Is Peace’, and ‘Freedom is Slavery’, our society is even more nuts than that. Our society bans the words of ‘mother’, ‘father’, and of course, ‘parents’. Sally Hawkins and I were looking to the process when the gang entered.   
Sally and I turned and looked at them, before going back to research. 

“As you can see from here, the Bokanovsky process, which makes one egg separate into 99 equivalent eggs, which would later be labeled as Alphas, Betas, Gammas, or Deltas; and so on.” Roger was saying. Roger became the director because the original one left, and after Leonard Nimoy became the World Controller(or rather, Controller of Wiltshire). It is a rule here that everyone should think that Wiltshire is the world.   
Looking at one of the machines which were pouring liquids into the containers for the one egg, the process started, almost as if on cue.   
That was also when Sally and I finally got the cue to be leaving the experimentation room and go towards the laboratories. 

Going out to the corridors, Sally turned to me. “I can’t be together with Doug any longer, and I’ve already been with James,” she sounded upset when we started walking down the corridor, holding on to our clipboards.   
I didn’t really care. Unless it has anything to do with whatever Roger and Nicholas had with each other. OK, dear readers, an explanation is needed here. In our society, instead of banning and suppressing human nature altogether like in London, we support the saying of ‘everyone belongs to everyone else’. So therefore that’s how come Roger and Nicholas have been together since Ford knows when.   
And speaking of Roger, he used to be with William Holloway, another of our researchers. 

Saying good-bye to Sally and entering the laboratories, I was glad that I was in charge of most of the chemistry side.   
“I think you might be interested in this.” as soon as I swiped my card and entered, John Challis stood up and looked at me. Another scientist, who was called Alan Rickman, nodded at me.   
“You remember what happened when we tried to look for more sentient beings, other than dealing with the biology wing?” he asked, nodding towards the containers, “this is it, broadcasted by the Observatory.”   
I knew what that meant, of course. 

“Fortunately, does Roger realize this yet?” Alan was about to answer when a female looked up. She had silvery hair and a very mysterious air about her. She looked beautiful, though.   
“Not yet, for now, this is only known to the chemists.” she smiled at everyone, with everyone saying, “oooooooaaaaaah…”   
This is an ordinary occurrence, since Judi Dench would go out with anyone, that is, if he’s from the chemistry side of the center. 

That is, if some infection didn’t start spreading like an unstoppable illness. 

oooooooo 

It happened around the time when John, Nicholas, and some of our other friends gathered together and took the helicopter to the top-secret base. There’s a reason why the secret base and the main facility is closed off against each other and not at the same location — we can’t risk containment breaches, which happen fairly constantly around the facility.   
Wiltshire was a fairly normal society, that is, if you don’t look at how everyone is so absorbed in taking soma and getting different pleasures from Masses and of course, watching movies, which granted you the ability to actually feel how the actors did. I know it sounds impossible, but bear with me here, please.   
Arriving at the base, Nicholas looked around. 

“Dr. Bowie is supposed to be here.” we were about to scan our cards when the doors opened on its own accord, causing us to gasp.   
Nicholas and I exchanged a look. OK, there’s a reason why were we the ones first affected, and then John.   
“Let’s go see this, if there’s a containment breach, we would’ve heard it back at the main facility.” that was the first mistake I made, and I could only go on. 

Separating wasn’t a really good idea, I knew it, but Nicholas insisted, as we could contact each other by our satellite signals. John was with me, so we went the first direction, and Nicholas went another direction.  
Going down the corridors, the first thing I noticed was how dim the light was. It was obvious, I understand, but this wasn’t natural. John was about to say something when we heard something, causing both of us to freeze. We exchanged a glance. 

“What was that?” he asked, still looking around. The deeper inside the base we went, the darker it was. And was it fortunate we never really went more inside after hearing the strange sound.   
“Maybe the experiments.” I said back, not knowing and not wanting to know.   
That was when(bear with me here, please), in cliché horror movie style, a shadow appeared around the dim light.   
Both of us gulped. 

“Uh…” John began, and the next thing that happened was more like a blur and I couldn’t remember anything else from then.

(Some time later…) 

I finally came to way later than usual, and I found myself and Nicholas, along with John, back in the facility. Or rather, over at the World Controller office. If I wasn’t feeling groggy, I would’ve bolted away from there. Like The Trio, the World Controller decides whether to exile anyone out of Oceania.   
“What was going on in the bases?” Leonard Nimoy asked, sounding way more neutral than usual. I have no idea how Leonard did that, be so neutral all the time.   
I looked up and beamed at him, with Roger looking concerned at John. 

“SAW AWESOME STUFF!” I hollered, feeling my mind leave me again. This is what Leonard told me after I went back to myself, so bear with me here, please.   
Roger turned around and exchanged a glance with Leonard.   
“Radiation… fascinating.” he looked back down at John and said quietly to himself. That was when Leonard looked upset at him.   
“That’s my catchphrase, sorry to break it to you.” 

John bolted upright when Leonard said that sentence.   
“OOOOOOOOOOH, CAT FIGHT!” he jumped up and yelled, “HEY EVERYONE! THERE’S A CAT FIGHT ABOUT TO START IN THE WORLD CONTROLLER OFFICE! THERE’S A CAT FIGHT ABOUT TO START IN THE WORLD CONTROLLER OFFICE.”   
“Oh for Ford’s sake, SHUSH!” snapped Roger, jabbing a syringe into John’s arm, with said person finally quieted, with a sigh and slumping into Roger’s arms.   
Leonard and said person exchanged another glance. 

“OK, David, you’re to be staying in our suite today, get it? That is, until David Bowie and I get to the bottom of it.” the latter went beside me and said, with me nodding quickly, not wanting to experience the needle. Even though John didn’t shriek like a banshee when he was jabbed, it still looked freaky. 

(An hour later…) 

I know it’s cheesy and completely out of character for me, and also, it’s out of sync with the rest of society, but for some reason, Roger suggested that Leonard and I get along, and the latter better be kind to me, before he skins him. That was some kind of threat, of course, but Leonard didn’t even care about it.   
David Bowie(whom I’d rather call Ziggy Stardust, because he said so, without Leonard OR Roger’s knowledge *gasp*) was the one who was consoling us before our therapy session. I didn’t even think of it as therapy, if you know what I mean.   
Ziggy looked between us. 

“Dr. Jason, you’ve to be cured before things go even more haywire, and Leonard, please be gentle with him.” he reminded, “remember? You’re Vulcan.”   
Leonard ignored that last part and if I was honest to myself, I think he should be the one in counseling instead of me.   
“OK, you’ll be telling me about what went on in the base, and about everything you remember, alright?” he asked, as kindly as he could. I nodded. Sure. 

That is, if we didn’t get interrupted by another disturbance that proved to be even worse than the usual disturbance, and I’m not talking about containment breaches. 

oOo 

End chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 3: A shorter chapter now, but wait till the next one… > : D


	6. (Nicholas Lyndhurst POV)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I may or may not add more POVs, because I still have to do Roger’s. Still, that’s to be decided, and don’t wait up, because I have to get more ideas!

  I knew I shouldn’t’ve even suggested David(Jason), me, and John Challis to go to the secret base to see if David Bowie was there. Whatever the shadow was, it wasn’t something good, and it had glowing eyes as well. According to John, it was humanoid. 

  We were in Roger, me, and David(Jason)’s shared office when he told me about the shadow, while I was still trying to find the cause of what happened. There were radiation, according to Roger, and I was alarmed. I was alone, while those two got together. I sighed in relief. Luckily I didn’t encounter that being. 

  Looking over at John, I asked, “soooo… what was he?” 

 

  John looked up, his eyes glazed over. “You’ll never believe it, Rodney, but that guy were supernatural, and he says his name is Mr. Dread.” 

  I ignored his misconception about my name. Of course, I’m Nicholas Lyndhurst, one of the researchers for the Center of Hatchery and Conditioning in Wiltshire. One other thing I didn’t even get to notice then was his sudden cockney accent, which sounded slightly unnatural. 

  “That’s like something out of a Marvel comic.” looking up from the computer, I said back, not even knowing where I got that one from. 

 

  John didn’t really listen to me and I didn’t want him to listen. Sighing again, I turned back to the monitors just as there was another racket going on outside the office(s). 

  Standing up and opening the door brashly, I poked my head out, just in time to see the entity and Gene Wilder, who was behaving wilder than normal. Sorry, pun intended, I mean. 

  I was about to say something when the alarms went crazy. 

 

  “CONTAINMENT BREACH AT SECRET BASE, ALL PERSONNEL ALERT! CONTAINMENT BREACH.” the intercom crackled and a researcher screamed, before the entity looked at the intercom. I sighed in exasperation. This seemed to be similar to some kind of _Day the Earth Stood Still_ and Marvel cross-over. 

  “WHAT IS THAT THING?!” screamed another researcher. 

  John, from inside the office, looked up. 

 

  “That’s the entity.” 

  I sighed in exasperation. The D-class personnel and patrol were on their way and we didn’t have any time to lose. 

 

( _Way hours later…_ ) 

 

  The entity was, of course, Mr. Dread, as John had told me. Wherever he was found was unknown, but apparently he was telepathic, which meant that he could communicate with anyone around his radius. That was one reason why extra-terrestrial and strange anomalies were housed in the top-secret base, where they couldn’t harm anyone, and no one could harm them. In the case of Mr. Dread, or Mr. Glow-Eyes, which I decided to call him, he was under even heavier containment. 

  Speaking of containment, Sally and Doug, as well as John, were friends with a water creature that looked like a humanoid reptile, who was docile, that is, if you don’t get aggressive first. 

 

  “Now that’s just disturbing.” when I got to the Sites around the facility, I found Sally and told her about what happened in the office. However did that anomaly get here was still a question yet to be answered, but for now, he and everyone else is safe. 

  I smiled a little bit. “And apparently everyone is acting out of character as well, after getting within 4 meters away from him.” I said back, “how’s the water creature?” 

  A reminder. Sally and I are definitely not going out together, even though ‘everyone belongs to everyone else’, like how androids are like. 

 She looked through the door and saw John being splashed. 

 

  “Brilliantly, I guess.” she said back, “and speaking of water creatures… maybe you should go to see what’s going on in the biology laboratories. Heard someone say that Gene wants more body parts.” 

  I cringed hard at that sentence. “OK, see ya soon.” 

 

oooooooo 

 

  It was during lunch did Roger and David got back together again, with the former morbidly interested in what happened when the entity arrived around our corridors, which was on the top floor of the facility. I was, and still is, exasperated about Roger and David having lunch inside the office — why couldn’t they go out and eat? Why inside? 

  “So no one’s allowed to go out to the base, get it, both of you?” when I finished my typing of the first part of my story, Roger stood up and asked. He always does this when he wants attention. “And another thing. We’ll be expecting some Londoners coming here soon, for an expedition.” 

  David jumped up when he heard that. 

 

  “WOO-HOO! AND GUESS WHAT EEEEEELSE, NIC? THIS TIME NEXT WEEK WE’LL BE MILLIONAIRES, SO DON’T WAIT UP!” he hollered, with me looking away. Roger stared at him as if he just grew two heads. 

  “So he’s infected as well.” he asked, making it sound more like a statement than a question, as he looked at me again. 

  I nodded. I have no idea where did he watch _Only Fools and Horses_ , which was a television show that has a cult following. 

 

  And speaking of erratic behaviours, I’ll have to go to the biology wing. 

  “Don’t wait up, Rodge, I’ll’ve to go over to biology before Gene wrecks everything.” I smiled, and left, with David hollering, “BE CAREFUL THERE, RODNEY!” 

  Right, be careful indeed. 

 

( _Some time later…_ ) 

 

  The biology wing and chemistry wing seemed to be together now, and if it wasn’t of Alan Rickman blocking my way, I would’ve stopped it happening already. Of course, the entity disturbed the lower grounds first. 

  I stopped in my tracks and looked past Alan at the laboratories. Gene was trying to make some kind of re-agent that I remembered Jeffery Combs, one of our chemists, used to make. For what, I didn’t know then and still don’t want to know. 

 

  “Alan, let me cross.” I said, trying to hold on to my last shred of patience. Was I the only one sane here? 

  Alan looked at me. “What kind of non-magical folk would want chemicals?” he asked, walking up to me. Before he could make any moves, I shoved him out of the way and marched towards the laboratories, totally on the end of my rope with their erratic behaviors, before David Bowie crashed into me, purposely or accidentally, I didn’t and still don’t know. 

  I ignored him and swiped my card, before pushing the door open. 

 

  “… AND NOW,” Gene was yelling, smiling maniacally, almost like how Dr. Frankenstein was like, “HEEEEERE’S MY ASSISTANT, IGOR!” he nodded at me, to his pretend audience. 

  I glared at him. “WHAT DOES THIS MEAN, GENE?” I shouted back. 

  Gene finally got back to normal. 

 

  “Vell…” he began, still in his creepy German accent, “thought I’d kill you and put you back to life. IT’S A BREAKTHROUGH FOR SCIENCE, IGOR! AND I MOST DEFINITELY NEED YOUR HELP.” 

  Again, he screamed the last sentence. 

 

  I covered my ears and saw Alan and Maggie watching from the doorway with my peripheral vision. I groaned internally, those people are enjoying the drama surely. 

  “No, Gene, you’re not killing anyone.” I said firmly, with Alan and Maggie starting to get the giggles. Gene ignored them, as usual. “And I’m not Igor, it’s Nicholas.” 

  Gene stared at me. “Thought you were Igor?” 

 

  “No, Gene, he’s Nicholas, and Igor isn’t… well… here.” when I finally decided to go, and made Gene clean the laboratory up, because of his erratic behavior, Maggie yelled, “SO THAT’S HOW COME WILLY WONKA MADE THE CANDIES HIMSELF, HEY?” 

  I shoved them out of the way before I got infected and left them screaming erratically at each other. All thanks to that entity, which I really want killed right now. 

 

oOo 

 

End chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 2: Hope this is crazy enough, and we’re about to go back to London, to see what’s going on with Andrew Gower and company…


	7. (Roger Lloyd Pack POV)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So this is what happened after the entity swept erratic behaviours within the facility, and one should be thankful that it wasn’t permanent. Also, they’re having guests soon… > : D

  It had been way weeks later did I get a phone call from my old acquaintance Mark Rylance, who was a member of The Trio, which used to consist of me, him, and Liam Brennan. But now, after I decided that I’d better get into the science field, they replaced me, not that I cared a lot about it. Angus Wright is an OK bloke, and I’ve known that Mark, Angus, and Liam established their relationship around the time when Angus was the director of the Hatchery and Conditioning Center, before the Lovedom(or in Oldspeak, ‘Fandom’) got too vicious and caused him to leave Wiltshire for London. That was when he finally got to live with Mark and Liam, and how I became the director, after Leonard Nimoy became the World Controller(or rather… *don’t tell him this*… Wiltshire Controller). 

  I was searching for the database for the anomaly that happened around a week ago when the phone rang, and Nicholas Lyndhurst, one of my current Significant Others, got to it first. 

 

  A reminder, dear reader. Wiltshire is way stranger than London, where The Trio and The Party(which is, in Oldspeak, or rather, Standard English: Mark and Company) banned any form of human nature like intimacy and whatnot. Instead of banning them, they encourage it, and there’s a motto around here as well, ‘everyone belongs to everyone else’. 

  I was still thinking of ‘everyone belongs to everyone else’ when Nicholas looked up, causing David Jason to get distracted, as usual. 

  “What now?” he asked, and Nicholas handed the phone to me. 

 

  “Who is it?” David wasn’t one to give up something interesting. 

  Nicholas gave him a look. “No one.” 

  I took the phone. “Yes, Wiltshire Center of Hatchery and Conditioning?” I asked, trying not to listen to Nicholas and David’s argument, which was escalating quickly. 

  I gave them both a look and David made eyes at me. 

 

  I turned back to the phone, with him snickering. 

  “Oh, heh, hi, this is Mark Rylance.” it was Mark, my former acquaintance, with some other voices in the background, and one of them asked, “WHO IS IT, MARK? PLEASE TELL?” Mark ignored them. “Right, so Roger, I’m sending some Minitrue employees over to your place before I can deal with Angus, alright?” 

  “WHAAAAAAAAAAT?” the same voice that hollered the first question yelled again. I’m guessing it was Angus, since he and another of the chemists morbidly have the same voice. 

  Mark then said to the distance, “I’m serious about it, Angus.” And to me, he asked, “if it’s all right for you, can they go over there? One night only?” 

  I nodded, almost forgetting about Mark not being there. 

 

  “Of course, I’ll be alerting the biologists, and we’ll be expecting you.” I finally said, and hung up, just as Nicholas smiled at me, with David still puzzled and kept in suspense. 

  “Please, who was that?” he asked, sounding exasperated. Nicholas was about to say something when I finally revealed the message, “yes, you should be knowing it. It’s Mark Rylance, the leader of the Trio. Something’s up and some of the personnel from the Ministry of Truth are coming over. Why? Don’t ask. Please tell the biologists about their arrival and then we’ll deal with the rest.” 

  Nicholas nodded and they went. 

 

  After they left, I couldn’t imagine what was going on back in London, before I left and became the director for the hatchery and conditioning center. Mark and Liam had been together since the beginning of the Trio’s formation, and Angus joined in after I left. Angus had thought Mark and I were an item, when we weren’t. 

  Whatever they’re dealing with, I didn’t want to know, though my curiosity is getting the better of me already. 

 

oooooooo 

 

  The first time I met the ministry’s personnel, it had been almost shocking. I didn’t support Mark’s thoughts of controlling everyone’s feelings and whatever he did, so that’s how come I left. Nicholas was the one who was greeting the guests(or were they guests? I don’t know and couldn’t tell), and I didn’t know why I told David about what Mark told me. 

  “So you’re still adoring Mark?” he asked back, smiling a little bit, “it’s fine, if there’s a scandal, the entirety of Oceania would know. It’s almost like wildfire, and already, the tele-screens and everything are showing it. I guess he believes in our saying as well.” 

  I had to agree with a segment of what he said. Maybe Mark did believe in that. 

 

  I didn’t want to show the Ministry personnel the Bokanovsky process just yet and I told the biologists that we were showing them the symbiotic works we did. The symbiotes and some cyclopean life-forms were found on a comet, and thankfully, there weren’t containment breaches when coming to those experiments. 

  David was the one who wants to know about what might happen if there’s containment breaches. I didn’t and wouldn’t imagine what might happen. That’s because either everyone’ll become like the latest Marvel movie of _Venom_ or worse, be like how people were like around the climax in _The Missing Link_. I’d thought it sounded like a cross-over. 

  Leaving David, I entered, hoping I won’t be botching this up. 

 

  “Welcome to the Wiltshire Center of Hatchery and Conditioning, I’m director Roger Lloyd Pack and I’ll be your guide for the rest of the tour, along with Nicholas Lyndhurst.” I announced, and the personnel all looked up, no longer doing whatever they were doing prior to my appearance. 

  Leading everyone on, Nicholas looked at me, with the others murmuring. If they knew about Angus being the original director, then replaced by Leonard, and then replaced by me; they know more about the inner-workings of this facility more than I do. 

  “Are you sure about this?” he was asking, as we crossed the great hall to one of the laboratories, where the experiments were taking place. 

 

  I looked back at him. “Mark told me to show them the recent experiments after I told him the news. I don’t know, but it might be threats to make them succumb to them.” I said back, and swiped my own card on the scanner. 

  Again, dear reader(s), there’re multiple scanners around the facility, even when it’s way out of civilization, or if you could call it, central Wiltshire. There was a reason why, because the facility is trying to find symbiosis, as well as dealing with multiple births of… well… _people_ , from bottles. 

  “First, it’s an experiment on rabbits, please,” requested Nicholas, and we entered. 

 

  The laboratories specializing for human experiments and symbiosis experiments are located around the first floor of the facility, and some of the sites were used for chemistry and the rest of the science fields. Till now, I don’t know why did Mark want me to show them the symbiosis. 

  John Challis and another one of our researchers, which one of the personnels from London had said, “Alan Rickman,” helped to take one of the rabbits out of the cage it was held in. 

  One of the ministry personnel stared at it and I ignored them. 

 

  “Now this is what we mean when we said about a new discovery in science.” said Nicholas, and motioned for John and Alan to put the rabbit into the containment container, and put one of the symbiotes, the tamer ones, into the same container. “We’re still trying to see if they can achieve symbiosis, but for now, most of them didn’t and was killed almost instantly, after a few days. For this one, I’m not sure…” 

  The rabbits were curious about what was the mass they’re witnessing, just as the mass moved and the rabbit clawed the walls of the container. 

  “Oh… no.” mumbled one of the ministry personnel. 

 

  It only took some seconds before it was stabilized, trying to look around its surroundings. 

  “For this one, it achieved temporary symbiosis,” I said, not knowing exactly if I was right. I wanted to be correct, since we were running out of animals for testing and still had human subjects. The human subjects were mostly from the Savage Civilization, which still practiced the old tradition, which sounds more than unorthodox. “And now, this is what we wanted you to know about, or rather, Mark wanted you to see out.”

  It sounded strange even to my own ears. Why did Mark get so interested to make them see what we discovered? 

 

  Nicholas led them to the cyclopean structures the astronauts had brought back with them while on the expedition. It had been more than risky and several personnel on the space-ship had been possessed already. 

  If I was honest, I thought that the life-forms looked almost like what I saw in those H.P.Lovecraft stories and couldn’t be real. But here they are, and I don’t know if HPL would be impressed if he knows. 

  Jeffery Combs was the researcher seeing to the structures, though. 

 

  “This is,” leading the people around, I began again, “the first time humanity encountered, or rather, made first contact with sentient beings, which are the cyclopean structures and symbiotes. This is a break-through for science once we decide whether or not humanity can take the news and not become insane.” 

  “Ooooh…” everyone said back, and even John smiled a little bit, before I gave him a look and him going back to whatever he was doing previously. 

  Jeffrey nodded. “This is one of the reasons why the facility is inside the wilderness, we can’t risk anyone else knowing, but y’all know now.” he said back, and Nicholas reminded John about the human experiments. 

  One thing here, dear reader(s). Nicholas forgot we had others here, that’s why he said so. 

 

  I agreed and led everyone out, before they could have an eyeful of what we really were doing, which was human experiments. I guess that’s what they try to do around the Ministry of Love these days as well. 

 

oooooooo 

 

 Outside of the laboratories, Nicholas reminded me about showing them the conditioning, which was on the 13 and 14th floors. 

  Leading everyone on, one of them actually had enough nerve and courage to ask about whether we were also housing other extra-terrestrial life-forms, which we were, but they weren’t about to know it yet. 

  “There’s another base, but it’s off-limits to non-facility members.” said Nicholas, as we went up in the lifts. 

  We were going to the 14th floor, the one with the Gammas. 

 

  Through a long corridor, we got there fairly early, hut with the Gammas still asleep and listening to the Tellers, which were the ones speaking from the speakers, tuned at a soft volume. 

  Entering, Nicholas and I were quiet for some time before we finally made them wake up by rapping one of the tables, causing the Gammas to cry and shriek at the interruption. The Healer finally went to attention and Nicholas announced, “THIS IS THE FIRST EXPERIMENT!” and to the Healer, he said, “get them to prepare monitoring, and Roger,” he then turned to me, “the Betas have to be awake now, and remember their experiment?” 

  Of course I did. OK, I’d better explain this. 

 

  As we wait for the Gammas to wake up and quiet down, the Betas are about to start their first ever learning project, which is conditioning them to understand the harms of literature and flowers. It sounds ridiculous, I know, but it’s essential to their own good. 

  As usual, I wasn’t disturbed by their screaming, nor was Nicholas. We had to deal with these problems and everything all the time, along with the Alphas and the Betas, as well as the Deltas, Omegas, and Epsilons. 

  Looking up, I explained about the hierarchy that persists till now. 

 

  “There’re five stages of these infants in the facility. We’ve the Alpha Double-Pluses, the Pluses, the Alphas, and the Alpha Minuses. Next, is the Beta Double-Pluses(which are almost Alpha Minuses), Pluses, the Betas, and the Beta Minuses; and so on.” I explained, with the ministry personnel looking stunned. I didn’t blame them, though — they never had this kind of training anyways, and if Mark and Company were living in Wiltshire even now, they’ll be like this. Mark is Alpha Double Plus, with Liam and Angus Pluses or just Alphas. The rest of the Party are either Alphas or Alpha Minuses. 

  Finally, as the Healer calmed the infants down, we went to see to the Betas, since they were more important than the Gammas by a mile. 

 

( _Some time later…_ ) 

 

  Going down to the 13th floor corridor, which was similar to the one on the previous floor, Nicholas and I led the ministry personnel to another door, which was labeled as ‘Betas’. The Betas have a way higher intelligence rate than the Gammas, and they should, since they are the middle group, not as exhaustive as the Alphas and not as irritable as the Gammas. 

  As we found out, the Betas were crawling around some flower pots and books which the Healers and researchers have put out. That was the first stage of the experiment. 

  Nodding to Nicholas, he and the researcher lined the Betas together and made them crawl towards the books and flowers again. 

 

  But before they could get to their destination, Nicholas sounded the alarm and startled everyone, not just the infants, whom started their crying fit again. I should explain this round of alarms to you before you get too confused — again, using the Pavlov effect to get them to stop trusting everything the books say, and stop reading them. Flowers are the same case. 

 

oOo 

 

End chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 2: This chapter is over for now, and since I’m still not really satisfied by it, expect edits!


	8. (Andrew Scott/Angus Wright POV)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: We’re back in the 1984 side of the story! I told you this is going to be jumping from one parody to another, and I didn’t feel like describing about what happened when they saw the extra-terrestrials — Roger wasn’t with them, or so I think, so chapter 7 is over for now. 
> 
> A/N 2: A reminder: this chapter is narrated by both Angus Wright and Andrew Scott, so that’s how come the chapter notification is unlike the others! I’m doing my best to not change POVs too often, though, and this, dear readers, is venturing into Hamlet territories, so… yeah, that’s how come Andrew S is the first narrator, and then it’s Angus.

(Andrew Scott POV) 

 

 

  I don’t know, but I might be going insane or just plain paranoid because of the tele-screens, but things have been happening. I hope it’s the latter, though, because no one should suffer from mental illnesses, and I guess it’s because I had to get used to The Trio watching us again, after getting back to London from Wiltshire. I never told Ands — Andrew Gower — that, since he was already disturbed enough. 

  I’d better start from the beginning on how everything happened, and what happened when I was called, or rather, when I got to go into the Ministry of Love. 

  Again, it was just a very plain day of work, with Ands(Andrew Gower again; because he and I share the same name — my name’s Andrew Scott, by the way; I call him ‘Ands’, while he calls me Scotty, just in order to tell us apart, since namesakes shouldn’t really be with each other, at work or not at work) and I in our work-stations. Samuel Barnett, Joseph Timms, and Johnny Flynn were patrolling the area again, as usual. The Ministry of Truth were theirs, anyways. 

 

  “OK, confession time.” when I saw that Johnny and Samuel, along with Joseph, have finally separated and spreaded out, I looked over at Ands and said, “have you encountered anything supernatural these days?” 

  I didn’t think he might know when he looked at me incredulously. 

  “What?” he asked back, “supernatural things? Not really, why?” 

  I didn’t know whether I should or should not tell him. 

 

  It all happened some days ago, two days after we left Wiltshire. It was time for the Two Minutes Love when I saw someone, or something, at the corner of my eyes. They looked like a humanoid or something, but I wasn’t afraid then, just interested. They looked almost transparent, and more like some kind of ghost than anything else. Angus Wright, Mark Rylance, and Liam Brennan didn’t even see it, only I did, and I was paranoid all the way till now. 

  And that wasn’t the only time I saw it. I was talking with Juliet Stevenson, another of our Minitrue staff, when it appeared again, causing me to just leave, but not before I can make some kind of excuse. If I didn’t, they’d think I was madder than the leprechauns during St. Patrick’s Day. 

  Also, speaking of the ghost(or so I think he was), he and Angus weren’t in a good relationship, apparently. 

 

  What happened was that he was shown to be in plenty of photos, with even The Party getting paranoid, after seeing the pics, that is. I was the only one who could see it directly, and for me, that’s a good thing and a bad thing — Juliet didn’t care, and Angus and her have been getting close as well. Brilliant. 

  Now back to the story. 

 

  “I’ll have to go over to the Ministry of Love soon, according to… OK, this is gon’ sound stupid, so bear with me, please… the ghost.” I finally said, with Ands staring at me, his eyes the size of dinner plates. I mentally face-palmed. I knew he wouldn’t believe in me. 

  “So the ministry is haunted…” he mumbled, and I have to agree. Sure enough. 

 

( _Some time later…_ ) 

 

  Going to the Ministry of Love, or rather, as Ands have mentioned, Miniluv(in New-speak, that is), was basically impossible; but I got through, with the guards exclaiming, “OOOOH, right, he’s Prince Hamlet!” 

  I didn’t know whether I should laugh at that or cry when I heard that, but according to what Ands told me, and what I heard from The Party, things were going that way since forever. At the same time, Stephen was back in the Ministry. 

  Entering the great hall and going up via the lifts(Miniluv does have lifts, and don’t tell Ands, because I don’t want to ruin the surprise), I saw that the ghost was with me. 

 

  To say I shrieked on the top of my voice was an understatement. 

  “WHAT ARE YOU?” I didn’t want to know, but I was curious. I’ve heard of the perishing of a staff member, David Rintoul, I think his name was, because of a scuff

le of a pet. 

  “David Rintoul, who came back to haunt you-know-who.” the ghost said back, and told me urgently, “just bring Shakespeare to me, and I’ll deal with him later on.” 

  I was about to say something when the name ‘Shakespeare’ stopped me. 

 

  “Shakespeare?” 

  “You-know-who’s pet.” 

  “You(or rather, I)-know-who?” 

  He didn’t answer me. “Just trust yourself, Hamlet. Love you.” and with that, he disappeared, with me more shaken and confused than freaked out. 

  And what’s more, even the ghost has started calling me ‘Hamlet’ instead of ‘Andrew’. 

 

  When I got to the floor I was being assigned to, I saw Luke Thompson watching the surveillance and some others also doing the same thing. 

  “The late staff member…” Luke was saying, quietly, and the other one said, “so Andrew was telling the truth. HAH, now The Trio wouldn’t be able to cover things up anymore!” 

  I cringed at that one. If they were still brave enough to say that in the Ministry of Love… things will get ugly very soon. 

 

  “What happened?” I didn’t know and I didn’t want to know, but again, my curiosity was getting the better of me. 

  Luke was about to say something when the door opened and The Trio entered, with all of us jumping in front of the paused video, our hearts in our mouths. 

  “So seems like there’re more than enough thievin’ personnel in this ministry, eh?” asked Mark, hobbling towards us, with Liam and Angus just staring at him. 

 

  I sighed in exasperation. And that was the first time ever I forgot what was I supposed to be running in the Ministry of Love. 

 

oooooooo 

 

(Angus Wright POV) 

 

 

  Entering Liam, Mark, and my shared office, I immediately tried to distract myself from what just happened in the surveillance room. So Mark Rylance was the latest one infected by this strange phenomenon. OK, I’d better explain this, before you get too confused on whatever am I talking about. 

  It all started when I saw Andrew Scott in the great hall of the Ministry of Truth, where the Two Minutes Love was going on. That was the first time I ever ignored what they were talking about, praising us and adoring us. Most of them were members of the Lovedom(or in Oldspeak, aka Standard English: Fandom), and that wasn’t surprising. 

  What was surprising was that things suddenly went very, very quiet as soon as Andrew looked up. 

 

  To say he looked disturbed was an understatement, and was it fortunate that it was already almost the end of the Love. 

  “What is it with him?” I’d been on my way back to the office when Juliet Stevenson looked at me and asked. I had no idea why was she suddenly so concerned. 

  “Why’re you so concerned all of a sudden?” I asked back. 

  “Right, he was really attached to that cat.” 

 

  To say I was confused was an understatement. Sure, there was something that happened when David Rintoul, a personnel of the Ministry of Plenty, brought his cat to Juliet, with the latter being extremely adoring to said cat. Now she was trying to get to my pet hamster, which I decided to name Shakespeare. (Don’t ask, because) 

  I nodded, hoping I wasn’t spacing out, which was impossible. Mark and Liam caught up to us just as quickly, and Juliet immediately changed the subject. 

 

  “Please, Claudius, give him a chance, will ya?” she asked, “he’ll need to adapt.” 

  I didn’t even notice the name-change when she said that, and I agreed. I shouldn’t have, because Andrew was just as confused as we all were. 

  And that just brings us back to the place I left off. 

 

  I was looking out of the window when the door opened and Liam and Mark entered, with Liam’s eyes wider than dinner plates. Brilliant. 

  “SO YOU ALSO GOT INFECTED?” he was shouting. Since when did he become the dramatic one, I have no idea. “Wowww, Mark…” 

  Mark rolled his eyes. 

  “I wasn’t the only one. The guards are also infected,” he said back, “Angus, you called Andrew over, didn’t you?” 

 

  “Yes.” I said back, and Liam grinned at Richard… no, _Mark_ , I mean. “I’ll have to speak to him about this phenomenon, that is, if he’s submissive enough.” 

  Liam then grinned with too much mirth as the door crashed open again and a cat and hamster rushed in, jumping on the table. 

  “Riiiiiiight, submissive.” he said to me, then shouted at the cat, “GET DOWN HERE, WINSTON!” 

  Yes, dear readers; the cat was a black and white tabby and Liam named him Winston, though he said he(the cat, that is) should be called an actual name other than _The Cat In the Hat_ , though he couldn’t find a hat. 

 

  Mark then grabbed Winston and Shakespeare in one scoop and handed us our respective pets. 

  “Angus and Liam, just take care of them, will ya? Angus, you’ll’ve to speak to Andrew, and be gentle, please.” he said, and to Liam, he continued, “you, are coming with me, and not bothering Angus when he’s talking to Andrew.” 

  And after that, they left. 

 

  I then put Shakespeare in his cage and snapped, “you’re grounded, Shakespeare, no messing with Winston anymore. You’re not Thing One or Thing Two.” 

  Shakespeare just stared at me, possibly still wondering if Winston was really gone or not. 

  Sighing, I stood up and went to the intercoms to tell Andrew that we’ll be speaking soon, and after that, I went over to the cooler to get some of our wine again. That was some habit that I must’ve rubbed off of Mark, since he was like that when he had to speak to his minions(no, wrong word — _Companions_ ) named, according to him: Buckingham(me), Hastings/Tyrrell(Paul Chahidi, who worked at the Ministry of Plenty), and of course, Brakenbury/Catesby(Peter Hamilton Dyer, who’s name kept on changing — from George Orwell to Feste to the name I just mentioned). 

  I was still thinking of Peter when Andrew finally entered. 

 

(Andrew Scott POV) 

 

  I entered the office of Angus, Mark, and Liam slightly later than originally intended, with my heart in my mouth. Mainly because I didn’t want to see the ghost again, and another part was that I didn’t know why was Angus expecting me. 

  “Strange you’re inviting me here.” I said quietly, actually feeling strange that Angus did invite me here, without any warning. I didn’t tell Ands, of course, just in case he freaks out and fears that I’d be Vaporized, or worse, sent to the Savage Civilization. 

  Angus looked up at me. 

 

  “So what’s your view of the strange phenomenon going around here, Andrew?” he asked, and immediately I feared that he might be infected as well. 

  I half-ignored the question. “I have no idea how it started, but the first symptoms were shown in… Peter, who’s from the Ministry of Plenty.” I said back, “he was the one who claimed himself as George Orwell, and he was the one who said he created all this.” 

  For some reason, this felt familiar and I didn’t know why. 

 

  Angus was about to say something when all of a sudden, the door opened again and Juliet stepped in, her eyes glazed over. Angus and I both looked up. 

  “Oh, Hamlet, look upon your uncle as a friend, at least, and stop being so down. I know it’s fairly recent.” she looked down at me and said gently. Angus and I exchanged a glance. 

  “Umm… I’m having a meeting with Angus so just… get out, will ya?” I hated to say, ‘get out, will ya?’ to females, but I was desperate. 

  Juliet’s eyes immediately brightened. 

 

  “So you and him _are_ reconciliating?” she grinned. 

  Angus and I exchanged another look. 

  “Er… _yeah_?” I mumbled, and Angus said, “please, Juliet, we’re having a meeting and you’re just making it even more awkward than it already is.” 

  Juliet didn’t even listen to what Angus implied. 

 

  “That’s great, Claudius. Love ya.” and with that, she blew a kiss towards us and left. 

  I didn’t know that I could cringe so hard as I did that moment. 

 

ooooooooo 

 

(Angus Wright POV) 

 

 

  Talking with Andrew was fine, thankfully, and we made an agreement on seeing to how many people were infected. Things went smoothly all the way till he glanced and Shakespeare and nodded at me, before getting out of the office quickly. I sighed again. He was infected as well, that is, if he could see something that didn’t really exist. Right, Hamlet, that was him. 

  I was still thinking of Hamlet when two people bounded in, completely in different characterized minds. Mark was getting upset and Liam was oblivious. 

 

  “I don’t think I trust Cesario any longer,” finally calming down, Liam looked at Mark and said, “he’s taking advantage of you, Olivia, while I’m the one you’re supposed to be loving.” 

  Mark was incredulous. “Liam, are you alright?” he asked back, “I do love you, and Angus as well.” 

  Liam’s eyes went big and wide at him. 

 

  “SO YOU’RE WITH THAT BLOCKHEAD OF A KNIGHT?” he yelled, and Mark and I both cringed. “I’ll have Curio and Valentine deal with him. In no way is he having you.” 

  Mark and I exchanged a glance. _Twelfth Night_. 

 

oOo 

 

End chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 3: Sure, Twelfth Night is happening, and what could go wrong? Stay tuned to the next chapter of The Insiders and 1q84 if you want to know the answers.


	9. (Mark Rylance POV)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: All hail Mark Rylance’s POV… 
> 
> A/N 2: OK, now we’re moving into the ACTUAL parodies of the books/shows/plays I’ve mentioned, so please stand by and buckle up, because this is going to be utterly RIDICULOUS

It was a fairly normal day at the Ministry of Love, where my Other Halves and I worked at. I’m Mark Rylance and I’m the leader of the Trio, as well as The Party, which was the name of my group, and some of our Lovers(or, in Old-speak, aka Standard English: ‘Fans’) were also in The Party, which was mostly called ‘The Lovedom’; or, in Oldspeak, ‘The Fandom’.  
There was a strange phenomenon going on around the place, and I got to know it the… well… strange way after patrolling the area around London with my Other Half, Liam Brennan, who was in charge of the surveillance around London. London was the capital of Airstrip One, which was a country in Oceania. So quite literally, we’re all Oceanians, though that sounds weird, I know.  
Angus Wright, my Other Half(or rather, in Oldspeak: ‘Significant Other’), and Liam Brennan, my second Other Half, were the ones getting infected this time, after my stint as Richard III. 

“And you shouldn’t really be with Richard, don’tya think?” I was looking to whatever Daniel Robin had with Angus when said person and Liam bounded in. Peter Hamilton Dyer was behind the latter, acting as a guard of sorts.  
They looked down at me when they finally entered. 

“We’ve caught Clarence, sir.” said Peter, finally no longer in his George Orwell persona.  
Liam looked incredulous at him. “It’s Liam, bucko.” he snapped, and Angus hollered, “SHUSH YOU!”  
Liam glared. “YOU SHUSH!” he screamed back, and I finally stood between them before they could break out in a tussle.  
“OK, what’s going on here?” I didn’t want to believe in what Scotty(Andrew Scott) told us about everyone getting infected with some kind of strange phenomenon. It’s been affecting the people over at Wiltshire as well, and one of my spies; no, Thought and Memory Polices, Jonathan Pryce, was starting to act like a Cardinal whenever he’s with me. At the same time, he was convinced he used to be my manager.  
Liam shot Angus another hateful look and looked at me. 

“They’re convinced I’m your brother, and at the same time, it’s a miracle that one of them stopped claiming himself as George Orwell.” at the last sentence, he shot Peter an equal hateful look. “And I suggest them to be put into quarantine until they’re awake from this infection.”  
I sighed in exasperation. Of course, Andrew Gower was the only one who knew about all this, as usual, and Angus had been observing him for ages.  
“Fine, whatever. Peter and Angus,” I looked at them hard, “what is this?” 

“The orders of the king.” the former announced.  
Liam and I exchanged an incredulous look.  
“WHAT?”  
“…”  
Pause. 

“King?”  
“Edward IV.”  
I face-palmed myself. I swear that we were in the Matrix if that actually happened, not that the Matrix was real — it was a movie by the Wachowski siblings.  
“And who’s that?” I asked, trying to be serious.  
All three of them looked at me this time. 

“Colin.” said Liam, and I finally threw my arms up and went to check the monitors. Fine, maybe I’d have a chat with Colin Hurley before things go even weirder. 

(Some time later…) 

It was almost way hours later did all three finally get back to their right minds and know where they were. Angus and Liam were finally back to their usual bantering selves(that is, after tons of coaxing, because both were solid as rocks when coming to reconciliation. I never really believed in horoscopes, though, but in their case, it was more than obvious). I decided to allow them to come with me to the Ministry of Plenty because they’re usually my bodyguards, though I have other bodyguards as well — the Thought and Memory Polices.  
Liam had been one of those who suspected the Proles(whom we call as the Lovers, aka ‘Fans’, of the Stewart/McKellen duo and Antony Sher; and also our Double-plus-unlovers, which was New-speak for ‘Haters’), but Angus was convinced the Thought and Memory Polices were enough, and the torture methods in the Ministry of Love was enough as well. Whatever, I’d said. 

The Ministry of Plenty dealt with whatever’s been going on with Eurasia and Eastasia, and already even I was getting confused on which one were we having a war with. That’s because those three mentioned above were from Eurasia(Patrick and Ian) and Eastasia(Antony).  
“WELCOME TO MINIPLENTY, WHAT CAN WE DO FOR YOU?” when we entered, one of Colin’s entourage people bounded out. Iestyn Davies, who was originally with me in the Ministry of Love, but Angus suspected us. Again, that’s because Iestyn decided he was Farinelli(one of those singers from the 16th or 17th century), and I was Phillip V, who, unfortunately, suffered from depression and only had Farinelli for companionship. I thought it was cute, but as usual, Angus and Liam were the ones jealous of us and I had to make him go to the Ministry of Plenty. Another thing, Iestyn was an operatic singer, so that’s how come whenever there’s a message, he screams it; kinda like when Angus is excited about something.  
I smiled a little bit. “Uh… fetch us Colin?” I asked, blushing a little bit as well, with Liam smirking. 

“Maybe he should come back to Miniluv?”  
“NO way.” said Angus back, and Liam grinned bigger.  
“Jealous?” Iestyn finally left us with each other in the lounge as my Other Halves started bickering. They won’t stop, I tell you, no matter what happens.  
“And you?” Angus shot him a smug look.  
Liam was about to say something when I finally interrupted their bickering. 

“Please, can we just deal with this as grown-ups?”  
They nodded, while shooting each other looks. I sighed to myself. So much for being grown-ups. 

ooooooooo 

Colin met with us way later than expected, and of course, he was surrounded by Iestyn and Paul, the latter his Other Half.  
“Sorry to disturb, but honestly, what happened with Angus and Peter?” elbowing both Angus and Liam, I asked, trying not to show that I was beyond exasperated.  
Colin smiled at me. 

“Oh, the phenomenon. Paul and Iestyn were convinced they were some characters and it was one of those times I was the more sensible one between them.” he said back, “now, what brings Orsino and Andrew here?”  
I face-palmed and Iestyn hollered, “SO HE’S INFECTED AS WELL? NOW THAT’S NEW.”  
Angus played along. “We thought we —” he motioned between us, “— had better hang out for some time before thinking of moving on to a relationship. Also, he’s with the count.”  
Liam didn’t want to know what happened to Angus’s overall intelligence. 

“Count?”  
“No, I mean, duke Orsino.”  
Liam face-palmed as well and Iestyn giggled.  
“NOW THIS COULDN’T’VE HAPPENED AROUND LONDON, COULD IT?” he asked.  
“Not really. OK, I’m off to find some new friends, sorry, and see ya.” Colin gave Iestyn a look and clomped away. 

I sighed in exasperation and Angus and Liam cracked up. I’d have to deal with more serious things then, it seems like. 

(Several hours later…) 

We were free for the rest of the day, thankfully, and Angus was trying to reach Andrew Scott and Daniel Robin, since the latter was either, according to Liam, a) being in a secret relationship with Angus, or b) being Angus’s partner-in-crime; or c) Angus is also infected and thought he and Daniel were in a relationship. I’d cringed when I heard that.  
We were staying in our suite in Buckingham Palace when Winston, aka Liam’s cat, started eyeing Shakespeare the Hamster, aka Angus’s pet. I’d thought it was supposed to be the fish the former should be looking at, instead of a rodent; that is, until Liam reminded me about cats loving fish and disliking any type of rodent. 

“OK, that’s what happens when Angus reads Dr. Seuss to the younger Lovers.” I said back, as the door opened again, with Daniel and Angus both entering. Daniel was, as usual, stunned, and for once, I didn’t blame him. Liam was the one who’s prone to jealousy, while I just decided that it was because of the strange infection that’s been spreading everywhere.  
Angus saw Shakespeare and Winston, with the latter pawing the shelf where the cage was held. Shakespeare was oblivious, to say the least.  
“Winston, get down!” he snapped, forgetting Daniel’s presence. 

Daniel, to say the least, was fascinated by the names.  
“Winston? As in 1984, the novella by George Orwell, whom Peter Hamilton Dyer is insisting he is?” he looked over at Liam and I and asked. 

I nodded. And proceeded to explain what happened. 

oOo 

End chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 3: And for now, this is over. Stay tuned to the next one!


	10. (Andrew Gower POV)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Welcome back to The Insiders and 1q84! Now it’s Andrew Gower’s POV, and just you wait till it starts…

  Things were fairly normal when we got back to London, and since I haven’t updated things, Andrew Scott, whom you already know as Scotty, updated things for me. And, dear readers, this is where it gets weird, so bear with me, please. 

  It all started when we were over at the Ministry of Truth, in our cubicles, and Scotty had to go over to the Ministry of Love, which usually won’t house anyone else other than Mark Rylance and his henchmen. No, wrong word — _Companions_. 

  I looked up when he said that. 

 

  “Why now?” 

  Scotty smirked. “Ultra-special meeting, I guess, because Angus has been acting altogether like some royal person, while being altogether evil at the same time.” he said back, claiming it was some kind of spy mission. 

  I nodded. Of course. 

 

  Him leaving was just strange and being curious, I decided to just go back and not follow, or maybe follow eventually, and that’s when the bizarre happened. 

  It was outside of the Ministry of Truth when I saw them. I never knew there were Men In Black in London, and the last time I noticed, they housed an anomaly in the base that we went to see the extra-terrestrials in Wiltshire. Maybe a containment breach, or maybe they just got the original anomaly in Wiltshire? 

  Andrew just stared at them. 

 

  “What in the world ARE they?” he exclaimed. 

  The Men In Black went up to him and ushered them to their black sedan, _Matrix_ style. 

  It was way later did I find out they were androids, or rather, programs The Party used to hire to keep the people in mind-control; and if it wasn’t of them, I wouldn’t’ve met the dark-haired woman, whom I suspected was with Stephen, on the road, while I was on my way, after work, to the Hazelnut Tree Café, where I bought the diary/journal book I’m using to write down all the journal entry threads. 

 

( _Some time later…_ ) 

 

  One thing about the Ministry of Truth was that you won't be seeing anyone twice without reason; but as usual, that theory was crushed, because I saw the dark-haired woman twice. I already suspected her to be one of the Thought and Memory Polices, since she was wearing their trademark red sash and everything about her was mysterious. That encounter happened when I was about to go over to the Hazelnut Tree Café. 

  Bear with me here, please, because I have no idea why the café/small shop was called the Hazelnut Tree. It sounded more like an Orwell creation than something that’s real. Peter Hamilton Dyer might agree, since he’s been claiming himself as George again. More on that later, because the woman is really creeping me out. 

  We didn’t say anything to each other, just stared. 

 

  “I know you from the Love Week.” finally, after some silence, and me freaking out inwardly, she spoke. 

  I gulped. First, was the Men In Black escorting Scotty to the Ministry of Love, now is that strange dark-haired woman saying she knows me. 

  “Uhhhhh… right!” I said back, trying to calm down. She stared at me. 

  “I think I know why you’re here.” 

 

  To say that one freaked me out more than I should have was an understatement. 

  “WHAT? YOU KNOW —” I was about to cry out when she shushed me. 

  “There’re microphones here.” she leaned in and whispered quietly, “we should meet again.” 

  That was when I sighed in relief because Scotty wasn’t with me. 

 

  If he was, dear readers, he’d tell the entire population of London that I was about to go on a date, and with this strange dark-haired woman, to say the least. 

 

oooooo 

 

  After getting back to my place, which I finally furnished it better(mainly because some of the messes I couldn’t help with was bugging the heck out of me), I decided to write to the Center of Hatchery and Conditioning about the Men In Black, whom I later knew as Mr. Dread and his henchmen(or, in Newspeak, Companions). As I wait for them to reply to my message, I’ll stop boring you with my narrative and just get on with the journal entries, as usual. 

  OK, a quick note before I start the entries. I think I’d better tell you something about the Men In Black. Mr. Dread and his Companions, according to the tele-screens, were some androids hired by The Party. I know it sounds absurd, but humor me here, please. And with that in mind, I’d better start telling you via the journal entries on what happened recently, and why did I keep on seeing that dark-haired female. 

 

  **“** _May 8th, afternoon, pre-evening work, 2016_

 

_A quick note before I start: Because employees from the Ministry of Truth had to do both evening and morning work, sometimes both at the same time(same time means same day, just as a reminder), I’m putting up a notification on which time period am I writing this journal thread. Now let’s start._

 

_It started almost as soon as Scotty went to the Ministry of Love, because he was invited to. I don’t know why did Angus Wright invite him, per se; and if I’m honest to myself, I don’t even want to know. Juliet Stevenson, who was also from the Ministry of Truth, had been getting too close to comfort with Angus, and Scotty was either disgusted or shocked. I think both, because Angus was a Inner Party(or, in Standard English: Mark Rylance’s Inner Circle) member, he wasn’t allowed to be with an employee of the Ministry of Truth. On the other hand, Scotty’s been complaining about seeing ghosts and supernatural phenomenon._

_I had to admit, whatever’s been happening around here had to be the effect of supernatural occurrences, but please, dear reader(s), don’t tell The Party, and especially not The Trio._

_Because, according to Scotty, the ghost he saw was the ghost of the employee that fell into depression after the death of his rabbit, thanks to someone in the Inner Party._

 

_I didn’t want to believe that at first, but everything has a grain of truth inside them, don’t they?_

_And speaking of strange occurrences, that brings us back to what happened most recently._

 

_If you’ve read some of the previous journal entry threads other than this one, you might remember I mentioned about a strange dark-haired female that I kept on seeing. I don’t know, but I saw her again today, and again, she looked more like one of those Thought and Memory Polices than usual._

_I don’t know how long could I do these threads, but I’ll be making sure I update as quickly as I can, that is, if that woman wouldn’t sound the alarm, which sounds and is impossible, that is, if she really is one of the Thought and Memory Polices._

_And speaking of the Thought and Memory Polices, she wants to see me again._

 

 _So I know already, she might be one of those patrols for The Party. Who knows? We’ll just see how the arranged meeting goes now. Please stand by…_ **”**  

 

( _Some time later, after evening work…_ ) 

 

  I don’t know why and how I decided to go over to the Hazelnut Tree, but bear with me here. I wasn’t really thinking and couldn’t help but feel fear whenever I see that female, who looked familiar. It was after evening work when Scotty and I were walking back to our place when we stopped in our tracks. There she was. 

  Scotty’s eyes narrowed at her. “Who d’you think is she?” he asked me. To be frank, I don’t know either. 

  “I don’t know, but I kept seeing her everywhere.” I said back, finally confessing whatever I’ve been hiding. 

 

  Scotty nodded and looked at me again. “Now, Ands, whatever she wants, just make sure you don’t reveal anything The Party is hiding, alright?” he finally asked, as we continued our walk, trying our best to ignore her until we were too close. I didn’t know where did Scotty’s fright of The Party come from all of a sudden, because he was the most outspoken one amongst all of us. 

  Again, I agreed, and he left me with that female. 

  “You’re here.” when I finally made my presence known, the female said back, her dark eyes staring at me. Again, she looked too familiar to bear and I couldn’t remember where I’ve seen her before. That was when she was with someone else. 

  I nodded hesitantly. 

 

  “There’s something I’ve to give you.” she said quietly, and I gulped, not wanting to know what was she about to give. “Now take this and go.” 

  She gave me a slip of paper and quickly left, with me staring, stunned. Whatever she’s given me couldn’t be good, and if she was one of Mark’s patrols, that’s bye-bye to me. 

 

oooooooo 

 

  Because of the shock, I decided against the idea to go over to the Hazelnut Tree Café. Maybe next time, when Mr. Pryce was there? Entering my flat, I made a beeline to go over to the journal entry threads, only to find it untouched and completely safe. At last I understood how paranoid Scotty had been when he first saw David Rintoul’s ghost roaming around the Ministry of Love, and called him(Scotty that is) Hamlet, which was a Shakespeare character and completely fictional. And speaking of fictional, I received a call from Peter Hamilton Dyer as soon as I settled down and had put the piece of paper down on the table. 

  I nearly jumped 10 feet in the air when that happened, because whenever there’s phone calls, it’s usually something to distract you from the oncoming gang(no, _group_ ) of Thought and Memory Polices, here to arrest you and bring you to the Ministry of Love, where they’ll torture you and make you confess everything; then they’ll make you love The Party. 

 

  “Winston? Yea, I finally connected to you. Don’t forget to keep the paper, before things go even more haywire.” when I answered it, Peter said, in his best George Orwell way. 

  I didn’t know when did he decide that my name was Winston. Actually, I’ve told him my name and he wouldn’t remember it. 

  “Paper?” I asked back, “OK, yes, I’ll keep it.” 

  Whatever paper it was, I didn’t want to know. 

 

  The phone call ended after I was finally convinced and I stared at the paper. I didn’t want to know what it was, because I’ve read _Treasure Island_ a tad too often. Not only that, I didn’t want to be under the surveillance(as if we weren’t already) of Angus Wright and Companions. 

  Sighing, I peeled the paper open and didn’t want to believe what was happening. It was a simple message, and kind of anti-climatic, I had to admit. And why couldn’t she just tell directly, I didn’t know. 

  _Love ya_ , the paper said, almost… shyly, if we are talking about poetic language. 

 

  I was relieved, to say the least, and already, I was thinking of what to reply to her, the next time we meet again. 

 

oOo 

 

End chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 2: And yes, there is the crack-ship of Andrew Gower and Sue Perkins, if you still don’t have any idea. I got that inspiration from one of RodneyMcKaySG (rodneymckaySG)’s crack!pair stories, so! 
> 
> A/N 3: And speaking of crack-pairs, don’t forget to stay tuned to the next chapter of The Insiders and 1q84! : D


	11. (Andrew Gower POV)

It was risky when coming to going to work the next day after what happened between the dark-haired woman and yours truly, mainly because this time, it was rotation again, and the people from the Ministry of Plenty was the patrol here this time. And their names were Colin Hurley, Paul Chahidi, Sam Crane, and Iestyn Davies.   
Scotty told me about the rotation today at work when we were hanging out in the lounge, which was his favourite place on hanging out, other than around the lobby, where it was most likely the place you could be captured by the Thought and Memory Polices.   
I didn’t know why was that(the rotation) when he told me. 

“Why so?”   
Scotty smirked. “I’m fairly sure it’s a way for people to stop committing thought-and-memorycrime.” he answered, just as we were called outside the lounge, in order to greet the patrol from the Ministry of Plenty.   
Iestyn Davies was the enthusiastic one, or so he seemed to be.   
“HELLO EVERYONE, TODAY WE’RE GOING TO BE PATROLLING AROUND THIS PLACE, BECAUSE OF THE ROTATION!” he announced. According to Scotty, Iestyn was an operatic singer and actor, so therefore that’s how come whenever he had to say something, he doesn’t say it per se, he shouts it.   
Scotty looked at me. 

“We know.” he said, with me indifferent. As mentioned, we don’t dare laugh out loud at whatever our companions says, because — you guessed it, thought-and-memorycrime.   
“SO NOW, SINCE Y’ALL ARE FINE WITH US BEIN’ HERE, BACK TO WORK Y’ALL GO!”   
And we went back to our work-stations, with Scotty exasperated. 

I understood that one, because sure, Iestyn and Sam were partners-in-crime(or, in Newspeak: Plus-Companions), and at the same time, Mark Rylance was convinced both were Farinelli, the 16th Century singer. Of course, I didn’t understand that one, and I didn’t really intend to. 

(Some time later…) 

Work was just like that, all translating the Newspeak Dictionary which Angus Wright is so hyped up on seeing. I don’t know why, but The TRIO could be hyped up on anything, especially what the Love-doms have been doing in their free time. I got that message after Scotty told me about some people ending up in the Ministry of Love again, almost without doing anything, but speaking in your sleep.   
I’d cringed when I heard that, and thank goodness there weren’t any microphones or tele-screens around us.   
He told me that when we were packing up our stuff. 

“You could end up next, you know,” I said back, hoping to my stars that we’d be safe, and possibly I can go over to Mr. Pryce before things go even more haywire, with Peter Hamilton Dyer being the only one else other than Angus Wright calling me ‘Winston’. I didn’t dare ask them who the heck was ‘Winston’, because they’re convinced that’s my name.   
It’s almost similar to what happened to Nicholas Lyndhurst recently, I forgot to tell you. It was all around the news, because Roger Lloyd Pack was the director of the Center of Conditioning and Hatchery in Wiltshire, as mentioned in the previous threads. It was like this.   
Roger was convinced that Nicholas was called Rodney. 

Nicholas had given up convincing him otherwise because John Challis also called him ‘Rodney’; that is, until he(Nicholas himself, that is) was also infected again by the strange phenomenon.   
That was when things went towards the bizarre.   
Roger was then convinced that Nicholas was called ‘Dave’. Typical, isn’t it? 

I was still thinking about the mess that Nicholas, David, and Roger got themselves into when Scotty said, “and you know, it’s unsure if Mr. Dread is the other copy from Wiltshire. According to Roger and Companions, he’d been under strong containment.”   
I finally snapped back to attention. Oh, right, the Men In Black.   
“I’ll be investigating this as soon as possible,” I promised, and we parted ways, which was a very risky thing to do, so don’t even think about trying it. 

Why I decided to go over to Mr. Pryce was puzzling even to me, and at the same time, that strange dark-haired woman wanted us to meet again, but not today. Maybe it’d be an alarm if we did meet today, and personally, I didn’t want to go over to the Hazelnut Tree. Still, my conscious and thoughts weren’t with me, as usual. 

oooooo 

As prepared, I decided to go over to the Hazelnut Tree Tea Shop way later, after work, that is. I didn’t decide that per se, but my feet just brought me there, without my consent. If I said I wanted to go there, I’d be lying — I’d been dreading to go there ever since starting the journal threads.   
The Hazelnut Tree Tea Shop wasn’t so far away from where Peter Hamilton Dyer lived, since he adopted his Orwell persona. I don’t know how could he think he and Orwell were the same person, but I’d be beat if I knew.   
The tea shop was, as usual, filled with bric-a-brac on one side, and another, filled with knickknacks for onlookers. 

I entered gingerly, not really thinking about what would happen between me and the dark-haired woman who didn’t look older than anyone in the Ministry of Truth.   
“Oh, so you’re here again, aren’t you?” I was looking around the place for where Mr. Pryce kept journals and books when a voice asked.   
I spun around. There was Mr. Pryce. 

Mr Pryce was the inn-keeper and the manager of the tea shop. I couldn’t remember what was his first name, though, but I thought I could at least trust him, for now. He couldn’t be one of those Thought and Memory Polices, which were everywhere currently, when Mark Rylance and Companions adopted their 1984 personas. 1984 was one of Peter’s… no, Orwell’s… most popular novellas that was a mixture of realism and science fiction. It’d been beyond me on how could he write something like that, when Airstrip One was altogether non-existent when he was alive.   
Now, everything was just too realistic.   
Looking around, I saw something else that caught my eyes. It looked almost like a pink diamond, only with a coral in the center. 

Picking it up, I told myself this was what Mr. Pryce been hiding… no, been collecting, recently, and had absolutely nothing to do with 1984, since he didn’t even play Mr. Charrington in the production we recently did.   
“This looks like the prop we used when we did the production,” I mumbled to myself, just as someone else entered and Mr. Pryce was forced to leave me. I thanked my stars for whomever that was that led him away. I couldn’t afford to get more attention on me.   
Looking into the diamond, I couldn’t help it. 

I had to investigate into what caused the phenomenon, and how to stop it, that is, if it could ever be stopped. 

(Some more time later…) 

Meeting with the dark-haired woman again was almost another coincidence, only this time, I didn’t think of it as a coincidence. It was in the lobby, with another Ministry of Truth employee arguing with her.   
“I’m Julia, and I’m supposed to be with him!” one of the brunettes snapped, and I nearly jumped out of myself. That was Catrin Stewart, one of the other employees, but she had someone under her wing already, that’s the thing.   
I went up to them gingerly and not wanting any more drama, if that was even possible. 

“Oh, heh, hi,” I mumbled, not really meaning to intrude in their intimate session.   
The dark-haired woman looked at her incredulously.   
“This time, you’re one of the background characters because this is real life.” she snapped back, and looked at me. “You’re finally here.”   
“Er,.. yeah.” 

She sighed in frustration. “We can’t meet up now, tomorrow.”   
We both glared at Catrin, though I had no idea what was going on.   
Tomorrow… that’s good enough for me, and I just had to record this down, before things go even more haywire, if that’s even possible. 

oOo 

End chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Ok, this is it for now, because I’m lazy and you should be looking out for edits! For now, this is all, and next chapter is back to Hamlet.


	12. (Andrew Scott POV)

I literally refused to believe it after I was forced to go check the archives of everything we did post-10s. Things were going worse and I couldn’t just tell Ands about it. Before I rush into the main theme I’ve been wanting to tell you, I have to say that I found out some really disturbing things, pre-David Rintoul’s depression because of what happened to his rabbit.   
One thing was certain, David didn’t really kill himself. It was mostly a rumor, or so I thought before seeing his ghost haunting the corridors where Angus (supposedly) killed him, along with the bunny. Poor thing.   
And that, was why there were rumors about the Ministry of Love was haunted, though The Party, especially Angus, refused to acknowledge it. 

At the same time, Benedict Cumberbatch claimed the Ministry of Peace was also haunted, this time by someone whose name I couldn’t remember, for the life of me.   
“Listen, I know I have to go over to the Ministry of Love occassionally,” I was in the lobby of the Ministry of Truth when Horatio… no, Joshua Higgott, called to me about something that seriously alarmed him. Something that has to do with Ands, or rather, Andrew Gower, who was one of my acquaintances.   
“It’s Gower and Angus, alright?” Joshua snapped. 

I looked up from my workstation. Ands was writing in his journal entry threads again and was oblivious to anything Joshua had said.   
“What d’you mean?” I questioned.   
Joshua was quiet for some time, before he said, “y’know, actually we’re acquaintances as well, and it’s like a multi-cross-over. It’s Syme, by the way.”   
If it wasn’t of my brash reaction, Ands would never’ve gotten distracted. 

“Scotty?”   
“Syme, Ands?” I nearly cried. The last thing I remember was that Mark Rylance had claimed that John Hurt, another of those employees from the Ministry of Peace, was Winston, to Angus’s denial.   
Ands looked at me as if I just sprouted wings and tentacles.   
“You shouldn’t’ve known.” 

I sighed in exasperation at my discovery. That was one weird hurdle down, and there were more to go. 

(Some time later…) 

I didn’t know since when did the most recent Two Minutes Love start, because it happens frequently; way more frequent than usual. Ands had been seeing to someone and being altogether like the character Peter Hamilton Dyer kept calling him as, and apparently Angus Wright had been trying to get friendly with me. That, dear reader(s), is the weird thing that I had to concentrate on for most of the day.   
It happened around when I got another phone call, this time David Rintoul telling me to get to the bottom of the perishing of his cat, which was also called ‘Hamlet’(or so I think, because some people also call it ‘Evan’, but still) slightly later because the timeline is going haywire. I knew what that meant, and told him that I’d be at the Ministry of Love soon afterwards.   
Sighing, I stood up, and Ands looked up as well. 

Ands, aka Andrew G0wer, was also facing strange things that didn’t have anything to do with 1984, or so I thought.   
“So now I’m some medieval person,” when he looked up from another message that was sent to him, he said to me.   
I looked down at him. “Don’t be too down by that, I can not believe what timeline we’re in right now.” I said back, not wanting to traumatize him too much, if he still wasn’t, that is, “I’ve to leave for now, so cover for me, please?”   
Ands nodded and I left quickly. 

Going to the Ministry of Love was just strange, especially when two more employees enveloped me in a hug when I entered the front door. The Ministry of Love was supposed to be a place where torture and manipulation takes place, but weird things happen constantly, especially when one of the models of Mr. Dread had been here.   
The woman was called Lauren Gillian, and the man was Tom Burke, whom I kind of knew from the Ministry of Truth. Lauren was from this ministry, no doubt about that, but it was just strange when she’s affectionate.   
I pulled away and looked incredulous at them. 

“What’s going on?” if I was honest to myself, I didn’t want to know.   
That was when all of a sudden, the lift door opened and out stepped Liam Brennan, ready for his daily patrol around the corridors.   
“Just don’t be too affectionate when Ernest joins in your group!” he advised, and I looked up.   
Ernest? 

“And who the heck is that?” I didn’t want to know, but Liam couldn’t understand sarcastic, and couldn’t understand rhetorical.   
He smiled at us. “You’ll know.” 

And that’s how come I knew a little too much, as soon as we got upstairs, to the place where other ministries were allowed. 

oooo 

I needed to breath as soon as David appeared again, still upset. I promised that I’d revenge his cat and he finally disappeared, with Lauren and Tom looking worried at me.   
“OK, wrong fandom.” I snapped, just as the door opened and Angus entered.   
If I could have options on what to do just to end this madness, I would’ve chosen anything. 

Lauren was delighted to see him, as usual.   
“ERNEST! YOU’RE BACK!” she shrieked, her eyes turning into diamonds.   
Angus looked at her. “You’re not really delighted to see me, but you want to know if I approve of you three together, isn’t it?” he asked back, skeptical. I face-palmed. This sounded familiar and I didn’t want to know why.   
Tom grinned. 

“Ooooh, jealous?” he snickered.   
I had to admit, if this goes on further, it’ll get even more embarrassing and awkward. I stood up.   
“People, what’s going on?” I asked, rubbing my temples because I’m both getting a headache from them excluding me in their conversation and everyone acting unlike their usual selves. Most of the times, Angus would claim himself to be Claudius(just like how David claimed himself to be my father, Star Wars style) from Hamlet(the play, people, not the cat this time — GET REAL!) and O’Brien from 1984, and having quite the relationship(friendship wise) with Peter.   
Angus looked at me. “So you’re finally more sensible than them,” he stated, and I nodded. 

“So what’s going on?”   
Tom finally cracked. “HAH, I KNEW IT! Ernest, you and Leo, really?!” he exclaimed.   
Angus and I exchanged a glance. “SHUT THE HELL UP, OTTO!” the former shouted, and I finally got why was this scene just too familiar for comfort — Design For Living. 

(Some time later…) 

The friendliness between Angus and me is most definitely going to be short-lived, but that didn’t stop anyone else from gossiping and saying strange things. Design For Living was the least of my worries, but another employee from the Ministry of Love was really getting on my nerves; and that, was Justin Salinger, who wouldn’t stop chiding Angus whenever possible.   
The only thing I had to do was to play along, and pretend I was really Leo, when Leo was just a character thought up by Noël Coward.   
I was still thinking of Noël Coward when the door opened again. 

“Alls well that ends well, doesn’t it?” Juliet Stevenson, again.   
Angus and I looked up and I groaned in exasperation. First, was Juliet refusing to acknowledge reality, second, was that I have to pretend to be Leo when talking with Angus, who declared himself as the art-dealer Ernest, who was the actual one suffering in the play. And just trust Juliet to make it into some kind of queer Hamlet/Design For Living cross-over when she entered.   
“Oh, Hamlet, finally!” she grinned, and I face-palmed.   
I glared at her. 

“Can’t you see he’s…” I motioned to both of us, “we’re… different characters now? Benedict just called me Moriarty and I was wondering if his intelligence is alright!” I snapped back.   
Benedict Cumberbatch, one of the Brotherhood people, calling me ‘Moriarty’ was actually something that happened when I was still on the way to Miniluv. I swear people would be mixing people up if this continues, and if I was honest, I have no idea how long could this continue.   
At the same time, Daniel Craig, who was convinced he was a secret agent, called me C while calling Ralph Fiennes M. I swear this couldn’t be going the right direction, ever. Daniel’s and Benedict’s cases weren’t too worrying, but Juliet and Angus’s cases were getting too much.   
Juliet seemed to understand, before her eyes lit very much. 

“AH! SO THAT’S WHY MY PREVIOUS LOVE CALLED ME NINA, ISN’T IT?” she gushed.   
Angus and I exchanged another look. Whatever, I didn’t care anymore.   
“Can you puh-lease just leave?” I sighed, “we have to finish this conversation, and I have to play along.”   
Juliet smiled and blew another kiss at us. 

“Have fun, boys!” she chirped, and finally left us alone.   
I shook my head. This was one awkward run-in, and there were more to come. Surely. 

oOo 

End chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry this one was short! I promise to add to more, and there will most definitely be more fandoms coming soon! >: D


	13. (Liam Brennan POV)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: OK, I’m switching POVs again. I just remembered something so this happened, and if you love comedy, you’ll most definitely love the later chapters(that’re still to be coming, sorry!) — Cheerios : )

It had been a strange case that happened to me when I got back to Mark Rylance, Angus Wright, and my shared flat, or rather, a hybrid between a penthouse and a suite, in Buckingham Palace, where even the Royal family served us. They’re our servants, people, so get envying; and at the same time, Buckingham Palace basically belongs to us. 

All jokes aside, the strange phenomenon that was surrounding the entire Airstrip One didn’t get to me until after Angus’s chat with Andrew Scott, who’s also known as Scotty, before you mix him up with another Andrew — Andrew Gower, who was another employee over at the Ministry of Truth. For some reason, Angus suspected the latter Andrew more than the former, though he also hated the former, that is, when he was in his _Hamlet_ persona. The thing is, dear reader(s), the strange phenomenon was what caused us to act out of character, and this time, leave it to my Other Halves to act strange around me. 

Opening the door to our suite, Mark hobbled over. 

 

“So you’re back, aren’t ya, Clarence?” he asked, in a raspy voice that was either a) forced, b) faked, or c) natural, because he seemed to be limping around the place, with Angus looking shocked. 

“YOU _WHAT_?” I was about to say something when said person hollered, as if just registering something Mark just told him not long ago. 

Mark smirked. “Yeah, but he came back to life, for some reason,” and with that, he grinned at me. 

 

  I just stared. The last thing I remembered quite well was that Jonathan Pryce, another of Mark’s acquaintances, saw Andrew Gower, whom we’ll call Go-Go for now, buy something from the Hazelnut Tree Tea Shop. I’d thought, _whatever_ , but this time, seems like Mark was really getting off the rails. 

“What about me?” I asked back, and looked at Angus, “OK, now who is he impersonating?” 

Angus looked incredulous at me. 

 

“Whadaya mean, _impersonating_?” he snapped, standing up. I sighed in exasperation. I just got back from Stephen Daldry’s strange behavior from the cells we kept the thought-and-memorycriminals, and I wasn’t ready for more surprises. Stephen’d called me ‘Inspector Goole’, whomever that was. 

I wasn’t taken aback. If there was a cross-over waiting to happen, I was more than happy to oblige. 

“Listen, Claudius, you’re so arrested for killing off your brother, and threatening to kill off your nephew.” I snapped back, hating myself for not being taller than Angus. Said person was taller than both me and Mark and that’s how come he was more smug than normal whenever sending threats to us. 

Mark looked at Angus. “Claudius?” he asked back. 

 

I just about face-palmed my brains out. “ _Hamlet_ , Mark.” 

Said person looked hard at Angus. “Don’t think I wouldn’t consider killing you just because you changed your name,” he threatened, “because, you’re Buckingham, and my assistant, after Hastings, Grey, Vaughan, etc betrayed me!” 

If anyone would’ve told me that Mark and Angus would be rampaging through _Richard III_ I would’ve read it before getting back to our penthouse. 

Angus glared at Mark. 

 

“I never changed my name!” 

Mark glared back. “Fine, then come with me, because we’ve to go see Brakenbury to ask if he’s guarding the tower correctly.” 

I sighed after them as they went out and slammed the door. Only time will tell if  they’d snap out of it. 

 

( _Some time later…_ ) 

 

People from the different ministries very rarely get to our penthouse, unless they’ve been causing trouble. Angus had been thinking about inviting Minitrue employees Sue Perkins and Andrew Gower over to our suite because he had to talk to them about something, but that was before what happened after Mark invited Peter Hamilton Dyer, who had no idea(or pretended to), into our suite. 

“Now what’s this?” Peter asked. 

Mark looked as if he’d kill Peter right then and there, that is, if we weren’t looking. 

 

“Whadaya mean, ‘what’s this?’ Brakenbury, I thought you understood about me wanting Clarence here to just get killed so we can continue with our scheme!” 

Peter looked at me. “Inspector, what is this?” he asked, getting exasperated at Mark’s antics. This was the first time ever I saw him more sensible than the one who’s supposed to be sensible around us. 

I knew the reference immediately. 

 

“I don’t know what’s going on, frankly, but,” I decided to play along, “Claudius and Richard, you two are so going on trial when I arrest you.” 

Peter beamed and Mark and Angus ignored us. Of course they didn't get the reference. 

It was some days ago did Stephen Daldry tap on me to do the _An Inspector Calls_ project, and originally, I wanted either Angus or Mark to be my back-up, but just as you might expect, they rejected the offer. 

 

They were incredulous. “And what about Hamlet?” snapped Angus, glaring at me. I didn’t even flinch at his tone. I was used to Angus’s antics, and believe me, they’re even crazier than Mark’s. 

“Hamlet?” 

Peter ignored him and looked hard back at him. 

“Y’know he’s innocent,” he said back, and Angus hollered, “YOU KNOW IT WAS HIM WHO KILLED POLONIUS!” 

“THAT WAS AN ACCIDENT, CLAUDIUS, YOU KNOW THAT!” yelled back Peter. 

 

I intervened before they could continue on their rampage about Hamlet, whomever that was. 

“He’ll be having a hearing, and you two, come with us.” and with that, we led them away, with me trying hard not to break character. How did they get into this personas were beyond me, if only Andrew Gower’s predictions haven’t been coming true everywhere. 

 

oooo 

 

OK, dear readers, I didn’t know how this happened, but yes, I was the one infected some time later, almost as soon as we left the villa neighborhood. I didn’t become like them, it had a toll on all of us, but my infection started, according to Peter, as soon as we arrived near the tower where Richard III supposed allowed some murderers to kill his elder brother Clarence. Of course, Mark had been insisting I died already there. 

Everything is told by Peter to me, because apparently, he was the only one who wasn’t infected, even when he was being with us. I decided I’d better ask Andrew to explain this to me as soon as I can get my hands on him, which seemed impossible, at least for now. 

 

According to Peter, as soon as we got to the tower, they snapped out of it and I got infected. It was comical, to say the least. 

“Now this is the tower where you killed your elder brother, Richard,” I said, when we arrived, and Mark finally snapped back to reality, as if seeing the tower made him remember that he was Mark Rylance instead of actually Richard III. 

It was his turn to look at me incredulous. 

“OK, I admit, we were infected, though I remember very little of it.” he said back, and Peter had a look of realization. 

I very nearly face-palmed my brains out. 

 

“Oooooh, so they were infected.” he said aloud. 

I did face-palm this time and Angus snickered at my move. 

I had no idea why was that funny, as usual. 

“I’m telling you, you two should come over for trial,” I said back, and continued leading them to RADA, where I’ve heard Stephen’d included some fake trial rooms and fake courtrooms. 

Mark looked at me worried. “Liam, that’s RADA, not a courtroom.” 

 

Angus collapsed into laughing at that one and even Peter smiled. If I could’ve killed Angus then, I would’ve, but the façade of Inspector Goole was too hard to shed. 

“Shut up, Claudius and Alonso.” I snapped back, “you two have committed such crimes I don’t know where to start. Claudius,” I glared at Angus, “who kills their brother, I want to know? And Alonso,” I shot Peter the equal look of dislike, “who abandons their cousin?” 

“Because he’s a sorcerer, and that’s usually scorned upon,” explained Mark, who was, surprisingly, still in his senses. 

I ignored them. Whatever. 

 

“Whatever, we’ll be seeing to how’ll Stephen say to this.” and with that, I dragged them up to RADA, and told Peter to lead Mark to the tower, where I’ve heard that the two princes bodies were found. “You’ll be haunted, though, and you deserve that too, Claudius!” 

Angus ignored me, that was so like him. 

“Fine, fine,” playing along, Peter said back, “let’s go now!” 

 

( _Some time later…_ ) 

 

OK, this is what I do remember, and that’s the courtroom scene. I don’t know why, so don’t ask. Peter wasn’t there because he’d have to escort Mark over to the tower, which was another fake one near the Globe theater, and his guard is Tim Carroll, another one of our Inner Party members. 

An explanation. Tim was an Inner Party member because ever since Mark became the director of the Globe theater — and changing it into a regular haunt of us Inner Party members and a bunch of his other Lovers, Tim had been another of his followers. Or rather, our follower. 

If Angus didn’t join in our Broadway version of _Twelfth Night_ , after Roger Lloyd Pack decided to go over to Wiltshire to work over at the Centre for Conditioning and Hatchery, that wouldn’t’ve happened. 

And at the same time, I’ve worked with him individually as well. 

 

This is kind of getting off-topic, but please, bear with me here. If it wasn’t of _Merchant of Venice_ , RSC(or, in Oldspeak, ‘Royal Shakespeare Company) version, Tim, Angus, James, and I wouldn’t’ve met, after Angus and I met around 2002, pre-transfer of the Globe version of _Twelfth Night_ with the original cast. And now, most of said original cast were either at Wiltshire, or working in the other ministries. 

According to Mark, after the 2012 version got broadcasted, most of the original cast became Proles, and I couldn’t blame them; but don’t tell Mark. Because here’s a question: if it was you, would you be upset if your leader replaced you with Colin, Roger, Angus, etc? Of course, no doubt about it, unless you’re solid as rocks. 

Now, back to the topic. 

 

The trial was basically a reunion of the _Hamlet_ cast, combined with David Rintoul, who was pretty much undead(which was Newspeak for: ‘alive, at least for now; because when he had to go to Andrew Scott, whom we call Scotty just in case we mess him up with Andrew Gower, he has to be dead again’), Benedict Cumberbatch, who was the Hamlet of his Company, and etc. I didn’t want to invite Scotty just in case he has a heart-attack, because the only way he’d seen David was when said person was so dead. 

David and Benedict started snickering as soon as I led Angus inside one of the fake courtrooms. I smirked to myself. 

As usual, David couldn’t resist the urge to humiliate Angus further. 

 

“HAAAAAAAAAAAAA BUSTED!” he yelled out, with Benedict face-palming. Rupert Graves was also with them, but in a _V For Vendetta_ persona. 

Angus glared. “THIS WASN’T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN, ALRIGHT!” he yelled back, and I kind of felt sorry for him until I thought about how much Scotty suffered. 

David ignored him. “Suuuuuuuuure, killing my cat was so supposed to happen. Now what about Shakespeare?” 

I couldn’t believe it. They were talking about pets? 

 

“So we need a fair trial for Shakespeare the Hamster and Hamlet the Cat.” standing up, Rupert announced. Benedict nodded and also stood up. 

“I say yes.” 

I had to admit, this was a pretty good idea. 

 

“Fair enough, I’ll be making sure they go on trial, that is, unless one of them kills another again.” 

Angus and David’s eyes nearly popped out of their heads. 

“NOOOOOOOOOOO, NOT AGAIN!” the latter wailed. Angus agreed. 

I sighed. So this was what happened over at the courtroom and this was what we decided on. 

 

( _An hour or so later…_ ) 

 

Angus and I gave each other the silent treatment again that same evening when we went for dinner, which was cooked for us by the Royal Family, at Buckingham Palace. Buckingham Palace was the place we lived in some of the time, because we had free service there. Even the Royal Family members would get banished and/or Vaporized if they dared to talk back to us, so this is the life, I tell you! 

“So what was that about, Angus and Liam?” after Catherine served us pudding, Mark asked, waving her off. 

As usual, Angus had to be the dramatic one. 

 

“HE SAID,” he yelled, still upset, “DAVID AND MY PETS HAVE TO GO ON TRIAL AND WE REALLY HAVE TO GET OUR OWN LAWYERS.” 

Mark looked like he felt his intelligence was dropping by the second. 

I sighed in exasperation. 

 

“Not like that,” I tried to explain, “you and David have to resolve your differences, because I’m sure the Lovers want some more collaborations.” 

Mark looked at me like he wanted to smack my head in. 

“What?” I asked. 

“Why don’t you let David take care of Winston for some time and later, you can get him back?” he asked, smiling. 

I really felt like Mark shouldn’t be hanging out with Angus any longer. 

 

“NO way is that happening. Angus can get David another pet.” 

That immediately made Mark perk up. “OF COURSE!” he punched air. 

Angus groaned in exasperation. “No way is that happening.” 

As usual, I refused to cut in. 

 

“Fine, think about it later on, we have to finish our dinner.” 

And that’s what we did, though the pet thing was later forgotten, because according to Angus, we have to go with the play Shakespeare wrote. Again, that spiraled into an argument between him and Mark, which will be continued as soon as possible. 

 

oOo 

 

End chapter 13


	14. (Andrew Gower POV)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SUMMARY: Last chapter of Andrew’s POV we saw him looking at rooms around Mr. Pryce’s property. Now he’s about to get together with Sue Perkins, what could happen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Now we’re back to Andrew Gower’s POV!

It had been quite some time did the last time the dark-haired woman and I met with each other. I’d been translating Old-speak into New-speak and that was when Andrew Scott looked up at me, as if knowing what was I thinking about. 

  “So Ands, d’you think we shoulda told ‘em ‘bout a trial fer the animals, hey?” he asked. I knew he was thinking about David Rintoul’s cat, who I understood was either called Hamlet or Evan(and to be exact, I liked the latter name more than the former name, because). The tele-screens had told us earlier that morning that Liam Brennan had been trying to force Angus Wright into RADA(or, in Old-speak, ‘Royal Academy of the Dramatic Arts’), where he’d already prepared a supposed hearing, or maybe even a planning, on how would things go if they were holding a trial for the wronged animals. 

  I looked up. The last thing I knew was that Angus, Mark, and Liam were in their _Richard III_ personas. 

 

  “I’m preeeetty sure Angus’s innocent, because it was Mark who forced him to go into those events.” I said back, “that is, in _Richard III_.” 

  That was when Scotty brightened up very much. 

  “So y’mean Claudius is actually Buckingham?” he grinned, “that explains his behaviours.” 

  To be exact, I didn’t know, and I didn’t want to know, where he got that idea. 

 

  I nodded. “I hope so.” 

  He smiled again. “So I’ll be so looking forward to the hearing, and I hope Angus had got himself a good lawyer.” 

  I didn’t know about that, but for some reason I suspected Daniel Rabin; but don’t tell Scotty I said that. 

 

  That was pretty much that happened around work, and that day was the one I finally got to meet with the dark-haired woman, after being disturbed for so many times. 

 

( _Some time later…_ ) 

 

  Catrin thought she’d make me jealous for going out with Scotty, so that’s who her date was for that day, after we finally finished with our daytime work, before we did the afternoon shifts. 

  Scotty didn’t even acknowledge that one, because my dark-haired woman was with her, and at the same time, employees weren’t allowed to be coerced; so that’s how come Joshua Higgott, Scotty, and I were together, along with some others of our same entourage. 

  I must be eyeing the dark-haired woman because Joshua started smirking as soon as I looked away. 

 

  “OK, Go-Go, what d’you have for her?” he asked, slicing up one of his apples. We were having apples for dessert, because The Party hardly approves of unhealthy snacks. 

  Other than Joshua, no one else calls me ‘G0-Go’, because it’s childish. It’s kind of like how Justin Salinger was the only one who calls Angus ‘Gussy’. Don’t ask me how I knew — the tele-screens tell you everything you have and don’t have to know about The Party, aka Mark and Co, and constantly, I mean. 

  I looked up. “Oh, nothing.” I couldn’t stop thinking about how life must be like inside that pink diamond, with freedom and everything at every corner. All you have to do is obey the law firm, and that’s about it. 

  And speaking of the diamond, I really felt like renting the room from Mr. Pryce. 

 

  And at the same time, maybe find out what actual freedom is like, or was similar to. 

 

ooo 

 

  It was around after work did the dark-haired woman and I meet again and this time, we went out of the ministry, without speaking to each other. I wondered why did she write ‘I love you’ on the paper; maybe she wasn’t one of the Thought and Memory Polices, but you still had to be careful. 

  We walked all the way till we nearly reached the East End of London. It was almost impossible, since we refused to take the Tube and took everything while walking on foot. Taking a walk was way safer, especially when the Thought and Memory Polices could be waiting and hiding at every corner. 

  I was about to say so when she turned to me. 

 

  “Listen closely when I tell you this.” she began, successfully catching my attention. I wondered what was she about to say before she continued, “there’re microphones here, so I have to say this only once.” 

  I was confused, as usual, but allowed her to continue, before we were either a) discovered and sent to RADA to get a trial, b) caught by the Thought and Memory Polices and sent to the Ministry of Love, or c) all of the above. 

  “As soon as we say good-bye to each other, you have to do this.” she began, and gave the instructions, “take the 4-16 freight to Innsmouth; there’s a abandoned mansion around that place and that’s the only place where the Thought and Memory Polices wouldn’t go. As soon as you see the mansion, turn left. There’s a piece of woods there, and you’ll see a fence where it blocked out the woods from civilization. That’s the place where we’ll be meeting again.” 

  I didn’t know where she knew all this. 

 

  “Where…?” 

  “Don’t ask. Now go.” 

  I immediately nodded and looked over at her. 

  “What about you?” 

  We exchanged another glance. 

 

  “I’ll be following you,” she said back, “we can’t go together, that’d be too suspicious. Now, y’know what to do.” 

  I didn’t know how I remembered all that, but I went without looking back again. 

 

( _A hour or so later…_ ) 

 

  The last time I’ve heard about Innsmouth was when Scotty and I were still over at the Centre for Hatchery and Conditioning back in Wiltshire. At the same time, I’ve heard that Catrin was going over to the Centre again, maybe because she finally found someone she really loved, or she had feelings for. I couldn’t remember when I started thinking about that dark-haired woman, maybe around the last time when we were doing the Two Minutes Love. 

  Innsmouth was also a place around New England in the US, according to one of the chemists Scotty and I saw back in Wiltshire. Maybe because he was American and because Gene Wilder, one of their fellow biologists, had mentioned that place. 

  I was still thinking about Innsmouth when I arrived. 

 

  Jumping out of the freight train, I was relieved that I wasn’t discovered by the workers that worked on the tracks. This was broad daylight — if you’ll call late afternoon light ‘broad daylight’ — and if I wasn’t quiet, they’d discover me. Sighing, I decided to just get up and go look for the mansion that the woman mentioned. 

  I’m sorry about this, but an out-of-topic thing. I couldn’t stop thinking about this one, but me moving to the countryside could either happen to Catrin and her newest fling or even worse, be all Brave New World again. I’ll be making sure that I record this in the journal entry threads, so please don’t freak out if you see me writing about this topic again. 

  Back to where we left off, on me going towards the mansion. 

 

  I didn’t arrive there until way later, or so I thought, because I saw that dark-haired woman actually following me. She wasn’t kidding. 

  “So this place?” I called. We were finally in the countryside and out of London, where the Thought and Memory Polices, as well as The Party, controlled us, with the tele-screens and microphones all over the place. 

  Looking around, I saw the woods and the fence, still a little bit far. 

 

  “You don’t have to go over to the fence, actually.” I was about to go towards the fence when she spoke. I stopped walking. 

  “O… K, fine.” 

  She finally got up next to me as we got to the fence together. For some reason, this place was familiar to me, yet I couldn’t remember correctly how I remembered it. 

  There was a silence before she spoke again. 

 

  “You’ve been avoiding me constantly, why?” she didn’t look at me when she asked this, but out to the woods. 

  The woods looked ominous, but it wasn’t like we were going inside. 

  I looked at her. “I… don’t know, I thought you were one of the Thought and Memory Polices,” I finally admitted, glancing at her. She looked incredulously at me. 

  “Oh, so the get-up.” 

 

  I nodded slowly. 

  “I was recruited to be in the Anti-Intimacy League by The Party, which is You-Know-Who’s gang.” she finally revealed, “oh, and I haven’t got what you’re called. I’m Sue Perkins, by the way.” 

  I then knew why was she so familiar. The last time I remembered, she was with a Ministry of Plenty member named Giles Coren. Whatever happened to them, I didn’t want to know. 

  “The name’s Andrew Gower,” I said back, “and yes, I’m kind of Andrew Scott’s namesake, that’s why we have code names for each other.” 

 

  She looked interested. “No wonder. You two are friends?” 

  I didn’t know what to say to that one. Was Scotty and I ‘friends’? I didn’t know what to say to that, because Scotty obviously had his own business to attend to, and seems like he’s closer to Angus Wright than I expected. When my thought turned towards Angus, I had no idea, and I didn’t know why I thought he told me about this ‘place with no darkness’. 

  “I saw you during the Two Minutes Love,” I finally blurted, not wanting the awkward silence to continue. “That’s why I thought you were one of the Thought and Memory Polices.” 

  Sue looked incredulous at me. 

 

  “Me, actually loving The Party?” she asked back, “now, Ands, where did you get that idea? Everyone should either really love them or just pretend to. I have to admit, I left Giles because of that, and because another of my former flings were getting too into their so-called Thought-and-memorycrime bric-a-brac.” 

  The last one I knew who was she talking about. Stephen. 

 

oooo  

 

  We stayed in the country for most of that day, not wanting to go back. I still didn’t know why she wanted to be with me of all people, but I couldn’t deny I loved being with her as well. I used to be with Catrin, but we’re over now. She’s been too inside whatever Orwell meant by Thought-crime since we finished the play-version of his novella _1984_. 

  We went into the mansion after we finished the talk about Mark Rylance and Companions. Sue didn’t think they’d be reigning for long, but I don’t know. We might just be Vaporized, or worse, sent to the Savage Civilization if they hear us. 

  Trying not to wake her, I slowly sat up from where we were lying on the four-poster bed. 

 

  Maybe we should be leaving, because I didn’t have a good feeling about this place any longer. 

  “I think we should be leaving,” when I finally lay back down next to her, I mumbled, pretending to be still asleep. 

  Immediately she sat up. 

  “Yes, we’ve stayed here for some time already, and the Thought and Memory Polices could be looking for us already.” she said back, “we have to meet again soon.” 

  I nodded and we kissed again, post-rest. 

 

  “Next time, we have to change a place.” as we got dressed up again, since we got intimate pre-rest, she continued, “I don’t know, maybe we can come here again, but it could be risky. The Party doesn’t want anywhere safe from their brainwashing tactics.” 

  I have to admit, that was a little too direct. That was when I remembered. Maybe we can live over at Mr, Pryce’s. He had this room in his inn. 

  I looked at her. “I know a place.” 

 

  I told her and she agreed. We could be making good use of Mr. Pryce’s place, and I was already expecting myself to be in the Ministry of Love as soon as possible, and facing Rylance and his Companions. To the end. 

 

oOo 

 

End chapter 14


End file.
